


Bulletproof

by Victorine_Lily



Category: The Walking Dead - All Media Types
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Background Relationships, Blind Character, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff, Haphephobia, My First Fanfic, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Sexual Content, Slow Romance, Swearing, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-03-21 01:26:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 51,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3672372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Victorine_Lily/pseuds/Victorine_Lily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ivy Vance was somehow built for this new world. This new world of death and decay, of walking corpses and blood thirsty humans. Funny thing is, this world is just as dark as the old world. Still covered in a black veil, yet somehow more peaceful and open compared to the old world. However, light seems to stick close to the woman as she is overcome with people and individuals who are determined to invade her heart and soul. Between her two traveling companions and an unknown reunion, Ivy's dark world might just brighten and her heart might be able to accept another's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Yippie!~ 
> 
> HI there! So, this is the first fanfiction I have written in years! So, please, please, please be patient with me. I would very much like to hear what people think of this, suggestions, critics, ect.
> 
> Okay, so this story is not really suppose to line up well with The Walking Dead. So, the timeline might seem a little funny. In this AU, Rick Grimes and his group have made it to the prison and have been living there peacefully for sometime. Rick and Lori's relationship has long since been over. Lori has already given birth to Judith and is no longer around. Rick is over his mental health issues. Sophia was found back at the farm and is alive (because I can not kill her off! I just, I just can't. Too many feels when she died). Shane still died on the farm after trying to kill Rick. Merle was rescued from the roof top and while he can still be a dick, he's been seeing how Daryl's been changing, and between his brother and the group Merle has been changing for the better as well. 
> 
> I SADLY do NOT own The Walking Dead or any of it's cast, characters, story lines, or ideas. Kinda wish I did, but all respects to the original creators.

When the world had long gone to shit, what was the point of being overwhelmed with the end of the world? Though, one would have to agree that it was rather surprising, a twisted end, to have it end with the rotten teeth of snapping jaws and the jagged edges of broken finger nails peeling back flesh like an overly ripe piece of fruit. Poached faced, glassy eyed creatures of decomposing flesh one would only associate with a bad horror flick or a child’s night terror now brought the end of humanity. It was a hell of a way to go, one no one really saw coming. Yet, it had come and now the world was quiet, well quieter would probably be the better word, then it use to be. 

Autumn was in full swing and the terrors from cities burning, mass confusion, and the crumble of civilization had all but fallen into the backdrop months ago. Not that it matter because those simple terrors were replaced with others and just like the rolling oceans the world was changing and moving on. It was amazing to think while humanity’s lifeline was nearly snipped clean, the planet still revolved, and the world still moved on. The leaves still changed colors, animals still roamed, the weather still changed, and life seemed to go on. 

Yes, life still went on and on and on it would go even if every single human disappeared from existence. Maybe this was the planet’s way of resetting, some sick but necessary form of evolution? A remaking of the world, like what happened after the mass extinction event that wiped dinosaurs from this very same planet millions of years ago. Hell, maybe this was God’s way of punishment if you believed in that sort of thing. Either way, life continued as it always did and the proof was seen clearly in the nearly black eyes of a small forest doe that grazed upon the slowly drying patches of green grass.

“Wow….I’ve never seen one so close before.” A voice whispered softly, echoing silently from behind a large oak tree. The voice was high pitched, but soft like a spring breeze and gentle with a strange fondness for the world. “What does it look like?” Another voice echoed beside the first, this one deeper, but just as soft. The voice was deep but female in nature, an auto in a chorus of voices as steady as a stream. “Hmmm, it’s a doe….she’s small though…..maybe she’s not eating enough?” The first voice questioned, earning a small snort of a laugh from the second. “Sounded like something small.” 

“Well, winter is coming….foods getting harder to find.” The second voice continued to speak, “Can you do it?” the tone dropping, becoming softer and more concerned. There was the soft sound of shuffling feet and the groan of wood. “We have to eat too...and I want to help.” The first voice stated again mixed with uncertainty and determination. The creaking of bending wood, the smallest squeak from thick strings made of horsehair, and then a sharp wisp echoed in the small clearing ending with a deep thud. An unnatural noise of agony escaped the doe as it fell into a thick slump upon the ground. “Not bad.” The second voice spoke, listening to the bright giggles that escaped the first voice. “I can’t wait to eat something nice.” 

Moving beyond the tree, a young girl no older than thirteen stalked quickly to the fallen corpse of the doe. While there was still excitement in the way she held her form, having taken down her first prey, there was the smallest inking of sadness in her deep green eyes. The soft autumn air made a mess of her thick black locks, which once were long enough to hold into high pigtails. However, with the change in the world, she had been instructed to take more precautions. Therefore, black hair that once reached her thin hips was chopped short, the ends barely tickling the tip of her chin and shoulders. A deep royal blue bandana, smeared in dirt helped keep her locks under somewhat control.

She looked small, thin, but somehow strong in her stance over the doe. One would claim the girl looked like a regular stick figure, one of those girls that just grew up thin without much meat upon their bones. It did not help that the oversized hoodie she wore, marked with a funny cartoonish drawing of a bunny, hide most of her form leaving disproportioned legs in dark jeans ending in small feet covered in simple gym shoes. However, there were still the signs of strength in those scrawny limbs that were forged in this new world. After all, it was a world of life or death….kill or be killed….nothing more and nothing less. A thin chapped lip disappeared behind a rim of teeth as the girl sucked her bottom lip in enough to chew at it. “May, I’ll do the rest.” The second voice spoke, the sounds of boots scrapping against the forest floor seemed to be enough to break the young girl from her unyielding gaze upon the fallen doe. 

Shuffling to the side, May’s green hues flickered instantly to the taller woman she traveled with. Now, there was a sign of strength if the young girl had anything to say about strength. Her traveling companion was something special, something somehow built for this new world of theirs. While she may not be blood related, May found her to be an anchor in this swirling world of blood and death. Perhaps an older sister? An aunt? Hell, maybe even a replacement mother. The woman was not very tall, maybe five foot four with those thick black boots she tended to wear, but she seemed tall with the way she held herself. Shoulders back, chin held high as if defying the world around her and the limitations it had imposed on her long, long ago. 

The woman’s skin was unnaturally pale compared to May’s sun kissed flesh, probably due to the woman’s dislike of traveling on the open road. Her form had a nice build, curvy, but strong with a good layer of muscles and strength beneath her flesh. Like May, the woman’s form was covered in thicker clothing for the oncoming cold. Dark jeans that seemed slightly loose on her hips and a deep grey turtleneck seemed to help some with the cold. Bright red hair stood out against the woman’s pale features, cut short in the back with overgrowing bangs in the front. Not that the bangs were really much of an issue, though one would think they would cause the woman a lot of issue. If they were not in her face, they were swept gently behind her right ear. 

“I don’t like killing, Ivy.” May commented softly clutching the handmade bow that she had used just moments ago. Her willingness to hunt was driven by the desire for food and the desire to be useful. While she was excited to have done a good job, she still felt uneasy over it all. Ivy was kneeling upon the forest floor, having pulled a knife from a holder on her hip, and was beginning to gut the still warm doe. The woman paused in her work, her head tilting slightly to the side. Seeing that simple head tilt, May kept quiet for a moment until the woman turned to look at her. Ivy had been listening to their surroundings, taking in the woods. Listening for the telltale signs of walking corpses, this seemed to not be an issue for once. Pushing away ruby colored bangs, Ivy turned milky blue hues that nearly seemed white in color on May. 

May could not help but look over that pale face before her for a long time even when Ivy began to speak. The woman’s face was young, maybe barely thirty, with full pink lips, small nose, and large eyes adored with thick lashes. Even though she was a redhead, her brows and eyelashes took on a darker red, nearly black color. The first thing anyone would notice about the woman would be those milky white blues that spoke of something the world would consider a limitation. In her time with Ivy, May had never seen those eyes; blind to the world ever hinder her survival. The second would be the jaggedly thin scar that marred her face from her hairline near her right ear to the base of her left ear, cutting through her right eye, over her nose, and under her left eye. May never asked about the scar, though she very much wanted to. She always felt like it was something she could not ask about, just like she could not ask how the hell this blind woman had survived so well in this new world.

“You should never like killing.” Ivy stated in a stern, nearly parental voice laced with firmness and concern. Turning back, Ivy continued to gut the animal taking with meat she could cut off and piling it to the side. “When ya start ta liking killing….you’ll turn into a monster much worse than those rotters.” Ivy stated, referring to the walking corpses that roamed the world around them, her southern accent seeping into her words a bit. May did not want to be a monster and Ivy took pride in that, knowing the girl would not lose her morals in this hellish world. “But….you’ve killed before…” May spoke softly, not questioning, just stating a fact. 

Yes, Ivy had killed. She had not only killed the rotters and animals, she had killed the living, breathing remains of humanity too. She had taken the lives of several people, four to be exact. “I killed….to protect us.” She stated as she carefully felt around the insides of the doe, making sure she was avoiding organs as she cut off the thick meat. It really was not wise to be dressing a deer in the open like this, but they really did not have much of a shelter as it was. It was better to have the scent of fresh blood out in the open, in case of rotters than in their current shelter. “But you didn’t like it...” May spoke again, in a matter-of-fact manner that made Ivy giggle softly, “Not once….but I would kill them all again.” Moreover, she would, she would kill all four of those people again if she had to. 

“Killing to protect is different from mindless killing.” Ivy spoke, knowing she had gone over this topic with May on more than one occasion. “If I didn’t kill those men, ya would not be here right now.” Ivy reminded her voice low and rather sad at the thought of May not being there. The little girl had grown on Ivy and while Ivy had no real experience with children, she felt overprotective of May as if she was her own. 

See when the world had turned to the walking corpses, humanity clung to one another in hopes of keeping some form of society and normality intact. Ivy, along with a man named Josh, had run into a group who had willingly accepted them with open arms. Something about humans needed to stick together or something. Well, the group traveled and took refuge in open clearings with tents and cars and the like. There were probably twenty people after about a week and the movement slowed to a stop. A settlement of sorts was figured out in an abandoned school, some middle school or something on the back roads. It was small, but manageable for a time with barely enough room for personal space. As usual, humanity looked to a leader for a simple little settlement and that leader ended up being the biggest asshole Ivy had ever known. Some man named Clark, big guy, loud guy, someone who ruled with fear.

Clark was some sort of ex-lawyer or something like that. He had an ego a mile long and beat the crap out of any man that went against his word. To say the least, his stupid, self-centered ways began to get out of hand to the point where he demanded something for his supposive ‘protection’. Ivy figured people were more afraid of the outside world than his leadership and followed blindly because they did not know what else to do. It started out small, small items for payment like food and goods, but it was not long before those sorts of payments were limited. Not willing to starve or be left alone, people turned to other forms of payment in order to keep this ‘protection’. Women would sell themselves out to Clark, hell even some men did too. Their settlement was mostly women, children, and a few men above the age of twenty-five. Most of the older men had died during the travel, providing true protection to their families and loved ones. 

It was in that little settlement that Ivy met May. Ivy and Josh stayed close to the outskirts of the group from the very beginning. There was something about Ivy and a group of people that never went over very well, so Josh made sure they stayed separated. It was not the fact that Ivy was hostile or anything of the sort, no she just had this deep fear of people. She found them mistrustful, selfish, hateful, and cruel creatures that were something different from her. Once Josh had asked her, why she feared people and the only explanation she could come up with was that they were human. Human, people were humans, and while Ivy was very much human as well, she put this space between her and everyone else. Going so far as to classify them as a completely different species she simple did not understand. Of course, Josh was an exception to this and when confronted about it she would simply give Josh a shrug and the simple words ‘your different’. She did not know why she could  
tolerate Josh, she just could, and left it at that.

It seemed May was another human she could tolerate, well learned to tolerate more or less. That tolerance would eventually evolve into something more, something paternal, like the adornment a caregiver has for their child. May was an honest, bright little spirit in this shit world, and had the most annoying habit of following Ivy everywhere! The redhead was not sure what sparked the child’s interest in her, just that it had been sparked, and May started following her around. At first, Ivy avoided the child like the plaque until the traveling group settled on the abandoned school. With nowhere to really run or hide, Ivy had to deal with the child, which turned out to be easier than she thought. May would follow her, sit with her, and such but she was quiet as a mouse. Never asked her a single question, never questioned her eyes, never questioned her scarred face, and never once asked how she did the things she did like hunt, shot a gun, or cook without her sight. It was a welcomed change, considering the amount of people who simply had bids on when she would be killed in this world. Something about the handicapped and the apocalypse meant a death sentence to these people!

Well over the weeks at the abandoned school and with a little help from Josh, Ivy started talking to May. It started with her asking if May wanted to learn how to shot a bow, a craft Ivy had known since she was small. While she would love to get her hands on a regular hunting bow, she had to settle with making her own, another thing she had learned as a child. May had seemed enthusiastic and with that, Ivy began to learn about the mouse like child. Some things became all too apparent when Ivy paid close attention to May over those weeks. Well, Ivy had a tendency to pay close attention to everyone around her, but she seemed to focus on May the most for the time being. First off, the kid was not getting enough to eat. Really, Ivy was certain she was keeping May fed more than her own parents were. Second, the kid had many bruises and cuts, something Ivy only noticed when she smelt blood or when Josh pointed them out. Third, May spent more time with her and Josh than her family. All signs pointed to something dark surrounding May and her little family and it got under Ivy’s skin more than it probably should have.  
Things only turned from bad to worse when May had limped to Ivy and Josh’s little camp outside of the school one day. While Ivy could not see it, she certainly could hear the change in the child’s footsteps. The soft, careful steps were heavy, dragging, and uneven. The girl’s usual soft scent was scorned with blood and salt, a sign she had been crying. Ivy had snapped that day and with Josh close on her heels she had marched right into the school and up to May’s mother. From what Josh had observed, from what May said to her, and the sense Ivy got from the couple, they cared more for each other than their own child. The confrontation had turned into a screaming match and nearly a fistfight, which was ended when Josh physically picked Ivy up to pull her away. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that Ivy would have beaten the woman senseless; there was something about the blind woman that screamed ‘don’t fuck with me’. 

It was that day that Ivy declared to Josh that they were leaving the damn settlement, claiming she would even be willing to take May if the girl wanted to go. Fuck her parents; fuck the people who did not give one damn about the girl and her situation. Something about May had gotten under her skin, something familiar, something haunting the edges of her dreams turned nightmare. Faint memories of darker times, left to suffer alone, and for some reason Ivy could not stand the thought of another little girl going through that sort of thing. That night, Ivy had gone to find May while Josh cleaned up their camp. They had planned to leave in the dark of night and really, it was time to go. Between their so-called ‘leader’ getting out of hand and May’s parents, Ivy was done. Being alone in the world was easier, quieter, and all around more peaceful than with these parasitic creatures known as humans. 

Ivy was going to let May decide, after all it was her life, and Ivy felt she would be no better than the girl’s parents by making her do something she did not wish to do. Even if May wished to stay with her parents, whom Ivy doubted, she still wished to give May that choice. However, Ivy did not find May right away and after asking around, forcing herself to ask around, she discovered the true horror of her parents. Now, Ivy knew about the whole ‘pay for protection’ shit Clark went on about, but since Ivy and Josh stayed in their tent outside it was concluded that they were not under Clark’s ‘protection’. Ivy figured the man did not want to fuck with them considering that between Josh and Ivy, there was meat on the table. Not many people in the group knew how to hunt. 

Ivy also knew that as supplies got lower, women offered themselves to Clark for his ‘protection’ claiming some bullshit of it being the only way to protect their families. She had even heard the rumors that some of the underage had been ‘traded’ for Clark’s ‘protection’. The redhead did not want to know about this trading shit since she did not care much for this group. It had been Josh’s idea to join, strength in numbers or some shit like that. Ivy did not get it, but then again she had lived a life alone and uncaring of the people around her. However, it was through talking to a few people she discovered what had happened to May and she was beyond livid. According to one of the teens, May had gone off…well rather forced…to go off with Clark to one of the empty classrooms. 

Her parents had traded her to Clark for his ‘protection’ and it had sent Ivy into a blind rage. She had turned sharp, stalking towards the back of the school where the classrooms were. Most of the group stayed together in the gym and the classrooms had turned into storage areas or ‘private-homes’ for Clark and those closest to him. With the now empty halls, Ivy’s over developed hearing easily picked out the sounds of voices, the sounds of a struggle, metal against tile, and the whimpers of a little girl she had developed a desire to protect. The hallway was dark, electricity, outdated now instead of a sign of the future. Coming to the door, Ivy knew she would be completely unsuspected, would be able to catch them off guard easily enough. No one dared to go again Clark, the man was a powerhouse built like a train. Therefore, when Ivy opened the door she quickly pulled the Glock 47 she kept on her being. 

Now one would not think a blind woman capable of shooting accurately, but it was amazing what being blind your whole life did for your other senses. Ivy could tell the differences in the sounds people made, the slightest differences in body odor, and she could feel the vibrations of people moving. Each person had a different…signature…yes a different signature is what Ivy thought about it. Individual differences that if one was to pay attention to could lead to the understanding of different identities. Being around May for so long had helped the redhead as she raised the Glock 47, firing off four shots with the calmest of demeanors, as if she was simple relaxing in the evening sun. 

The bodies hit the floor with thick thuds, one of them groaning in pain as Ivy had clearly missed a fatal shot. From the sound of the thick, questioning voice, Ivy knew she had not killed Clark. There were no other sounds, which meant she must have killed the other three men in the room. “May.” She had spoken sharply, her voice cold and harsh capable of cutting through pure ice and stone. There was movement, familiar scurry of the child climbing to her feet before running across the classroom. Thin arms were quick to wrap around her waist, a face buried in Ivy’s shoulder as tattered sobs and shaky breathes became muffled. Ivy did not move did not touch May as her blind hues focused on the room she stood in. It was as if a vale had been pulled over her eyes, blinding rage mixed with unwanted yet familiar memories making her movements for her. Lowering the weapon, Ivy gently pulled herself from May’s hold, walking the distances to Clark’s body with long, solid strides. The scent of blood was thick in the air, the metallic taste of the air giving Ivy a shutter that raced down her spine. Her boot squeaked softly as it made contact with the rapidly spreading liquid. 

"Pig…” She hissed as she pointed the Glock 47 down at the man and with one quick pull of that trigger, she ended the man’s life. She did not bother to check or care if the bullet went through the brain, let the fuckers turn. It was too simple, had been too simple to pull the trigger and kill these men. Ivy knew this and she knew May would look at her with horror and confusion. Somehow, killing these men had been simple and it brought a twisted smile to the woman’s lips, and a rather manic laughter to escape her lips. That’s when small arms wrapped about her waist, a face buried in between her shoulder blades, and May’s soft sobs brought her back from whatever dark place her mind had disappeared into. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” May was muttering to her, voice muffled against her back. Why was she comforting her? Ivy knew she should be comforting May. It was then that the scent of salt got stronger and Ivy had to raise a shaky hand to touch her own face. That was when she realized she had been crying too. 

And that is how it had all begun. May was more than willing to leave her parents with Josh and Ivy. It had been four months since then, May learning quite a bit about survival as they traveled through the woods rather than the main roads. Being away from her parents seemed to be some sort of rebirth to the youth considering how much she crushed the shell that had once been around her. Ivy had learned quickly that May was smart, quick witted, and while kind understood the difficulties of this world and was willing to evolve. She took what Ivy or Josh told her to heart, listened to them when they taught her something, and made sure to do as they said when situations became dangerous.

May was helping Ivy gather the meat in a spare towel they had brought from their camp when the woman spoke again. “We’ll get these cooking and have something good to eat.” She explained with a gentle smile. It seemed being in the woods made Ivy happy, made the woman calm, as if the woods was where she belonged, where she had come from. May recognized Ivy’s lack of interest in people, considering touching the woman could send her into a full-blown panic attack easily enough. Well, in May’s eyes and according to Josh, Ivy was getting better at that as long as the touch was not lingering. She was a curious person to May, but had treated May like a daughter, a sister, something that was better than how her parents had treated her. “Isn’t this too much for us to eat tonight?” May questioned as she tied the ends of the towel together, forming a little bundle for the bloody mess. “That’s why we’ll overcook the rest, dry it out nicely, and have some jerky for the road.” Ivy explained as she moved back towards the tree to gather up their backpacks. Handing May hers, Ivy slipped hers over her shoulder before taking the bundle of meat from May.

“You really know a lot about surviving.” May commented as they began to head back the way they had come. “Where did you learn it all from?” She questioned, following but a step behind the woman. Green hues watched as the redhead paused for a moment, tilted her head, listening to the world around her for but a moment before speaking. “I had some great teachers…” She explained as she continued walking. “Teachers?” May questioned, unable to help her curiosity over the woman. She knew a lot about Ivy from what she saw and what she was taught, but besides that, she knew next to nothing about the woman. “Ya….two boys I grew up with taught me.” She explained the lingering sadness in her voice was enough to make May frown. “Oh…..” The soft reply caused Ivy to sigh heavily as her footfalls came to yet another stop. Turning slightly, she reached out and placed her hand on May’s head. Messing the girl’s bandana covered head, listening to the grunt of annoyance, Ivy smiled. Her hand was not there for very long, returning quickly enough to the strap of her bag on her shoulder. “Stop feeling down.” Ivy all but scolded her voice more playful like an older sister than angry. “I…haven’t seen them in a long time….I’m not even sure if they are alive anymore.” 

“And we can’t dwell on the dead.” May finished the woman’s words for her, smiling when Ivy snorted another small laugh. “Ya, that’s right because?” Ivy challenged the girl’s wit. “We can’t change what’s happened. Gotta keep moving, gotta keep surviving.” Another swift pat on the head, the barest of touches making May brim with happiness, was the best praise the girl could get from the woman. “Now let’s get back before Josh skins us alive.” Ivy spoke as she moved to continue towards their make shift camp. A sharp snap caught both of their attentions and in one quick motion, Ivy pulled May behind her. Dropping the towel of meat to the ground, Ivy pulled her gun from where it was tucked in her pants. She heard May move to get her own gun, a choice Josh and Ivy had fought about for a week straight before teaching the girl how to shot. A quick intake of breath told Ivy more about the world than her eyes could and what she smelt put her on edge. It was not the rotting scent of decay, a sickening mixture of illness, blood, mold, and crap. No, the sound came from something living as Ivy held her gun steadily before herself waiting for the person to clear the tree lines.


	2. Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \-------  
> Dream  
> \-------

\---------  
“Hush little baby. Don’t say a word, Mama’s gonna buy you a looking glass…. Hush little baby”, a voice sung softly in his ear, a voice he had not heard in years. Some lyrics from an old song, sung in a feather soft voice that crooned like a mother to a child. Yet, there was no warmth in that voice. That soft female voice was laced with an icy chill that rivaled the frost that covered the windows outside of the small two-floor home nestled in the backwoods of Georgia. The world beyond that frost bitten window was quiet and dark. The sun was setting just beyond the treetops, painting the sky in soft reds and deepening purples and blues.

The voice, while close, was not directed at him. No, it was not, never was directed at him because the person singing those stupid lyrics over and over again like some sort of cultic chant had no idea he was here. Hidden behind the shuttered door of the small bedroom closet, hidden in the dark, out of sight, and out of mind deep-ocean blue hues watched the scene unfold just beyond the door. Eyes wide in the utter horror of it all, watching the small kicking body fight the grip of a hand in their hair. The shrill screams echoing the horror of the situation as the smaller body was pulled from the room by those hands, following seconds later by that damn person singing those damn cultic lines over and over again. At the harsh click of the slamming door, he reached out to push open the closet door.

Upon opening the door, the sounds of screams and struggle turned into the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. The bare bedroom from behind the closet door had opened to a beautiful little clearing deep in the woods. A familiar sight of tall knee high grass, tall trees, a creaking old brook, and the array of color from wildflowers. In the midst of it all, was that adorably endearing sound of bright laughter somewhere to his left. His eyes flickered in that direction, catching the sight that had stolen his breath away for as long as he could remember in this hellish world. The sound and sight caused a crooked little smile upon his chapped, chewed to bits lips. Unable to help himself, he ran in the direction of that sight, a name on his lips that just did not fall in the peace and quiet of the forest. 

Tackling that smaller body, only a few years younger than himself, he laughed at the puff of pollen and petals that fluttered through the air. The movements made the body beneath him rattle harder with laughter as small, thin hands came up to push at his chest. “Daryl! Stop!” The voice echoed around him, mixed in laughter as his fingers tickled along the body’s ticklish sides. “Ya ass~… Stop!” Another laugh, another enjoyable sound from the warm body beneath him, the one ray of light in this dark world. Blue eyes flickered down to the face mere inches from his own, a true smile marring his face, showing the smallest glint of surprisingly white teeth. The laughter died and the calm of the forest seemed to return in favor of the soft summer breeze and the babbling of the old brook. “Daryl.” The voice called for his attention softly and he focused on that face. 

“Daryl.” The voice whispered, the happy face beginning to taint with angst and terror. “Daryl!” The happiness, the soft joy that warmed his heart was repeating his name repeatedly but the happiness was fading. The body rattled with a heavy sob, his name being damn near screamed. He tried to call out that name, call out to the person beneath him in hopes of calming them. Running a hand down the smaller body’s side, he froze as his fingers met with something thick and sticky where the body’s hip was. His gaze was pulled down to his hand, pulling from the body’s side covered in crimson, warm, and sticky blood. Dread wretched his heart to pieces as his blue eyes flickered back to the face of the person who was still calling out to him. Pulling back, sitting up upon the body beneath him, he felt the scream rip through his throat at the amount of blood that covered the body, covered the ground, and destroying the beauty of that clearing.

It was a sickening sight, gut wrenching in pain as the body beneath him continued to sob out his name with a shrill voice of terror and panic. The name-dropped from his lips when the sounds began to fade and it became too quiet. Blood stained fingers quickly grasped the small shoulders of the body beneath him, shaking hard, calls a name that would not reach his lips. Pale skin, splattered in so much blood, eyes closed to the world, and then he was feeling for a heartbeat, a breath, a pulse, some form of life that did not seem apparent to him. It was too quiet, too much. Pulling his hands to his face, he tried to smother the sobs that began to escape his throat. He’s brother would kill him for acting like such a pussy, crying so hard like this, but he could not help it. He would take his daddy’s beatings, his brother’s scolding, hell he would take on the world to hear that beautiful sound again. For those gorgeous eyes to open again, for the blood to disappear, and the joy to return. 

“Daryl ” a voice called, somewhere behind him, somewhere deep within the forest. “Daryl” There it was again, but it was not the voice he wanted to hear. It was not the voice of the person he wished would call his name. “Daryl.” The cleaning was becoming dark, bleeding black, and it was only then that he realized the body beneath him was turning to ash slipping through his fingers as he attempted to grasp the fading form.   
\-------------------  
“Daryl!” 

A loud crash echoed in the concrete confines of a small one-person prison cell. The sound and sight must have been something because the person standing in the opening of his cell, sheet curtain pulled back slightly, could not stop the giggles of amusement. “Shit.” Daryl growled in that low gravelly voice that dripped thick with the accent of a southern boy from the backwaters. Slanting his eyes, focusing on the person who had woken him, Daryl grumbled softly to himself at the amusement on Carol’s face. “S-sorry.” She spoke, attempting not to giggle at the man who was still sitting on the ground. It had honestly been a huge surprise to find the hunter still sleeping so late into the morning, but Carol had figured he had been tired from the run he had just gotten back from the night before. What was more surprising was the fact she managed to catch the hunter off guard, a feat within itself if she was honest with herself.

It was not easy to sneak up on one of the Dixon brothers, more so Daryl than Merle, considering all their skills as hunters and trackers. Carol and the rest of the group had decided not to disturb the brothers, hoping they would sleep in for once in their lives instead of getting up at dawn. They had been on a two day run to some little town up north for supplies, returning late last night looking both physically and mentally drained. Considering the cooling autumn air and the threat of walkers, Merle had explained the difficulty of getting to that town and the trouble they faced once there. It was clear they deserved some sort of break after such a difficult run. Carol had only come up to Daryl’s cell to grab his dirty clothes to get them washed for the young man. She had not been expecting Daryl to still be sleeping, but it was clear by the nightmare he seemed to be having he would be unable to sense her as he normally would. 

Nightmares were not very uncommon anymore and honestly, Daryl seemed to have them more than anyone else did. When they had been on the road, traveling, and looking for a place to call home, she had witnessed some of those nightmares. She knew never to touch Daryl during a nightmare, remembering how Rick had tried to rouse him once only to be decked as soon as Daryl had opened his eyes. Daryl had felt extremely guilty for hitting Rick, but Rick had been able to tell that Daryl was not in the right frame of mind when he had done it. His eyes had been glossy and unfocused, showing the lingering of his nightmares in reality. However, she could not simply leave him to suffer and had turned to calling out his name in her gentle motherly tone.

The road had changed Carol a lot, hell it had changed everyone in their little group. After losing her husband, something that seemed to break her of her binds of submission and meekness, she had grown stronger and stronger. Maybe it was because she understood Daryl, understood the hidden pains and memories, that they became close over time. Something like kindred spirits or something, healing one another with the other’s presence Carol had figured once. They had closely formed something she would like to call a friendship and while Carol’s heart had longed for Daryl, she had quickly learned she would never be able to have the hunter’s heart in return. Somehow, their relationship turned into something more platonic and family like than romantic, which she was perfectly fine with.   
“What’d ya dream about this time?” Carol questioned, allowing the curtain of sheets that were the only source of privacy to close behind her. “S’nothing.” Daryl muttered as he pulled himself back onto his bunk, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms hoping to rid himself of the lingering sleep. “Didn’t seem like nothing…..that was a bad one Daryl.” It was hard to get the hunter to open up to her, but over time, she had come to gain the patience to wait for Daryl to open up to her. He would never open up by force, no that would result in him closing off once again. 

Daryl lowered his hands, his hues flickering towards Carol. Noticing she was not going to be leaving anytime soon, Daryl felt his lips turn downwards in a scowl. It was still strangely new to him to have this…this relationship with people. This family, this closeness, this complete lack of judgment, and this place to call home. There had only been a select few in his life that he could trust fully, truly cared for, would provide for, protect, and hell even give his life for. While he had this sort of relationship with his brother, even though he was a complete dick, it was both heartwarming and terrifying to have this relationship include more and more people. It would still take some time, but every day Daryl felt more and more comfortable with the people here. Maybe one day he would not have his guard up at all, maybe he could full let his walls down, and fully accept that this would not be ripped from his fingers like everything else in his life. “What’s going on taday?” Daryl questioned, trying to steer the conversation away from his nightmare and the concern in Carol’s motherly eyes. 

There was a heavy sigh from the woman before a smile touched her lips, realizing Daryl was not ready to talk about his dream. “Well…Rick, Hershel, and Carl are working on getting the garden going. Maggie and Glenn got guard duty. Beth has Judith and she and Sasha are going through the supplies you brought back. Sophia and I are doing laundry, and Merle and Tyreese are clearing the fences. Rick said you and Merle should be taking the day off, but you know your brother.” Carol laughed softly as a small twitch of Daryl’s lips resulted in the smallest of smiles. 

It had been total hell after losing the Greene’s farm. They had spent a good amount of time running around, hoping from place to place in hopes of finding somewhere to settle down in before winter hit. A lot had happened during that time. They had lost Dale and T-Dog on the farm and had lost Andrea when they had run into a herd. While he knew Dale and T-Dog were dead, prevented from turning before leaving the farm, Daryl could not be sure of Andrea’s fate. The woman had just….disappeared, lost when the herd split the group up in different directions. Somehow, the group had come together again, still managed to find one another shortly after. How the hell they managed to find one another repeatedly, Daryl was clueless. Maybe it was something like fate? On the other hand, maybe the God he had long lost interest in had finally began paying attention? Either way, they managed to come together except for Andrea. Looked for her though, once the herd pasted, but Daryl was not able to track her. He could only hope the woman   
would eventually find her way back or be somewhere safe.

Stress had been high in the group when they were on the road. Always worried about finding a place to stay, food to eat, water to drink, walkers, people, hell the whole damn world caused them stress. After the herd and losing Andrea, drama had become thick within the group and while Daryl had stayed out of the whirlwind that was Lori and Rick, he was still witness to it all. Shane was dead, Rick had confided in him on the road what had happened and Daryl respected Rick for it. The man had been torn about it, guilt ridden and such, but as Daryl had said, it was not his fault. He did what he had to do, since then it seemed he, and Rick had become closer. Rick turned to him for opinions, ideas, and suggestions, usually one on one since Daryl hardly cared to be in a position of power in their little group. Sure, he was on the ‘council’ here at the prison, but he only offered his opinion when he had something to say. Never bothered with the meetings or anything like that, let Rick catch him up on shit if need be.

On the road, it had come out that Lori was farther along in her pregnancy than any of them had realized. Truth was, learned from overhearing heated arguments between Lori and Rick since the two never knew the meaning of quiet, Lori had been sleeping with Shane prior to Rick’s coma. This meant that their relationship became even more strained and it was with some relief that Rick finally ended it all. Said something about being there for the kids but he and Lori could no longer stay together. It really was for the best in Daryl’s opinion. He could not understand how Rick could deal with Lori’s self righteous, bitchy nature. The woman practically smothered the man and their son, thinking she had all the answers. She had tried to play the good wife when Rick returned, but still rolled around in the hay with Shane. It had all been a big build up of drama, jealousy, hatred, and hurt feelings. 

While Rick and Lori stayed mostly apart, it was clear the man had no feelings left for the woman, but was still attempting to be a good dad to his son and unborn child. It had been horrible when Lori had gone into labor on the road. They had managed to stumble across an old cabin before she gave birth, giving her and the baby some sort of protection from the world. That night, that night had been a bloody insane night. Daryl remembered Lori’s screams of pain giving birth in the house with Carl and Hershel because the sounds had drawn enough walkers that the rest of the group was forced to stay outside for protection. Luckily, a herd had not come through, but there had been a great number of those fuckers drawn by the scent of blood and Lori’s screams. What had been worse was the sound of a gun shot in the cabin not even ten minutes after Lori had stopped screaming and a baby had started crying. As it turned out, Lori had had a C-section with Carl meaning she was most likely going to have a very difficult labor. He had no idea that giving birth to Lil’ Asskicker, as Daryl fondly liked to call the child, would end the woman’s life. It had been everyone’s horror to find out that Carl had done the deed, saying it needed to be done before she turned. Hershel had been shocked by it, being the only witness to it all. Man had his hands busy with the baby, had been going to warn Rick that the labor was over when it happened. 

After that, they moved on to an old abandoned house in a small neighborhood. No one wanted to be in that cabin where Lori had died, but they knew they could not be outside long with the newborn. Rick had kind of gone off the deep end for a while after. Guilt ridden, stressed to all hell and back, but the son of a bitch managed to pull through it. Daryl admired the man for his strength. Rick was a damn good man, good father, and a hell of a good friend. Daryl figured the big thing that pulled him out of his slump was when Rick and he had stumbled upon the prison while on a scouting mission. Rick had been so confident about the prison, so sure of this place, and Daryl could not argue with the man’s enthusiasm. 

Luckily, the prison had been empty of anything but walkers and it did not take them long to set up something for themselves. There was room, beautiful room that just made everyone breathe a sign of relief. It had been hard traveling, everyone living on top of one another with absolutely no privacy or space. Sure, the prison still lacked an adequate amount of privacy; it was still an improvement to how they had been living. Plus, it made Daryl feel good to see his little rag-tag family finally breathing out in relief and relaxing without the need to be on guard constantly and ready for an attack. 

“S’m’ the last up, huh?” Daryl commented watching as Carol nodded to him with a warm smile. Made Daryl feel lazy for getting up so late and surprised that Merle had not come to wake him as usual. “Merle wanted to wake you, but I told him to let you sleep.” She explained, seeming to understand Daryl’s thought process. He gave her a short nod and allowed his thoughts to focus on his brother for a moment. The man had really shaped up since the quarry and it still amazed him to see the improvement in his brother. It seemed this group had been good for both of them, considering even Daryl could admit he was not the same man who had come to the quarry with his brother planning on robbing the people he now came to think of as his family. 

Merle was still a dick with a short temper, but he seemed to have mellowed out over time. After the quarry, Merle had lost his stash of drugs having left it in the CDC when the thing blew to bits. Luckily, Merle had no idea how to make his own drugs and had to face the reality of withdraw and sobering up. Had been a hell of a time dealing with his brother on the road and then at the farm. Took him a long time too, going from agitated and more of an asshole than usual to very sick to slowly getting back to some sort of normal Daryl remembered from when he was smaller. Sure, Merle was still a grumpy, asshole, with a short temper and violent nature, but he seemed to have more control over his emotions. It seemed Merle was getting close to people in this group too, learning his own desire to protect the rag-tag family of theirs. He and Rick had saved Sophia from a close call on one of the highways and somehow being around the little girl was bringing out something paternal in him. He was getting close to Carol, saying she was so different from the bar whores he was use to bringing home before the world came to shit. Commenting about how she was a real woman and he could not help but respect that. Carol kept him in line just as much as Daryl did and while he was bound to throw his fits, he was better. For that, Daryl was happy.

Daryl was focused on his sock clan feet when he heard Carol shuffle to sit on the bunk next to him. Pulled from his thoughts by the woman’s closeness, he flinched instinctively when she reached out to touch his arm. The flinch was not nearly as bad as it had been before, getting use to these people, trusting these people; it was just an old habit that died hard. “Ya going to tell me about that nightmare?” She questioned, already having some knowledge of Daryl and Merle’s past. Some of it she had learned from his older brother, some from observations, and some from Daryl if she caught something off with the man. With a heavy sigh, Daryl rested his arms on his knees, then his head in his hands. Pushing the ever-growing brown locks from his face, he narrowed his eyes at the calm and patient Carol next to him. “Gotta tell ya?” He questioned watching as the woman snorted a laugh before crossing her arms over her chest, waiting. She knew when to push Daryl and when not too. Knew some things would send the man running if you pushed and others you had to push slowly, like now. 

“It’s getting cold out.” Daryl muttered softly after a long moment of silence, his blue eyes flickering to the curtain where he could see the streaks of light from the windows of the prison. “Ya.” Carol muttered, offering no more as she waited for Daryl to get comfortable enough to speak to her. “Knew…..use to know someone’s who’s birthday was in winter.” Daryl spoke, catching Carol’s attention. She had not expected Daryl to speak of someone else. The soft expression on his face, half hidden by his bangs gave Carol the feeling this person was important to Daryl. She had never seen such an expression on the man’s face before. “Oh?” Carol offered when Daryl got quiet again. 

“Lil girl…in m’ hometown.” Daryl spoke softly, keeping himself hunched over as if it would protect the little memories and block out the reality around them. “Meet her when I was nine…in the woods…scared the fuck outta me too.” Daryl spoke with a small snicker in his voice. “She snuck up on you?” Carol asked amazed with a small smile, her voice quiet not wanting to do something that would stop Daryl from talking. He did not talk much, let alone about his past, so she basked in the little bits of info he fed her. “Walked quieter than me…was a good gal…we’s hang out a lot…in the woods mostly. Was friends till a few years ago.” Daryl explained his blue eyes flickering to judge Carol’s reaction.   
“What happened?” Was Carol’s soft question, the expression on her face not wavering watching as Daryl seemed to tense up slightly. He gave her a halfhearted little shrug, seeming to hunch over more as if to hide himself away. “It must have bothered you enough to have nightmares…” Carol stated, getting a sigh of defeat from Daryl. “She…got taken away.” Daryl stated with a short nod of his head. “Was….sent ta some damn institution….people claimed she was insane…use ta get letters…” He commented softly. “Till corpses started fucking walking…Merle and I…we was gonna go get her…knew where she was…visited her once or twice…place was burned down when we got there.” Daryl sighed heavily, his thumb coming up to his lips as his teeth dug into the callous flesh. 

Chewing nervously, Carol could see Daryl was uncomfortable and could tell that what had happened was something rather big. She was curious what the girl had done to end up in an institution, but figured Daryl would not tell her all the details. From what little he had said and what she could tell from his being, that little girl, well woman now, had meant a lot to Daryl growing up. Hearing that the institute she had been in had burned down, she wondered if that once little girl was even still alive. “Found….found a body…looked like her…” Daryl muttered sounding a bit broken and as if he was ready to disappear, itching to search out the comfort of the woods. “I’m sorry Daryl.” Carol muttered softly, placing her hand softly on his knee. She had not expected that Daryl’s nightmare this time was focused on the loss of someone he cared about rather than his usually nightmares about his family and growing up. 

Daryl felt exposed and it did not take him long to pull himself away from Carol. Picking up his crossbow, he shouldered it before slipping into his boots rather quickly. He had the urge to run, get lost in the woods, and focus on hunting, on anything that would rid his mind of the many memories running around in circles. Between the memories of that girl, the guilt of finding her dead at the institution, for not getting to her sooner left Daryl distressed. “Daryl?” Carol questioned, realizing that she had lost Daryl and any hopes he would speak to her any more on the topic of his nightmares. “Goin’ huntin’.” He muttered as he quickly headed out of his cell, heading to grab some supplies before heading out of the prison completely. Carol could not help but sigh heavily before getting up, gathering the small pile of dirty clothes Daryl left in a corner of his cell. Leaving his cell, she frowned as her mind raced with thoughts. She had not expect what Daryl had told her and it seemed like that little girl had been the closest thing to a friend for Daryl growing up. Sadly, death was the norm now and while it stung from time to time, she knew Daryl would move past it. 

Wandering out of the prison, a basket full of dirty clothes, Carol headed for the small stream that ran through the back lawn of the prison. Sophia was already scrubbing away at a shirt on an old washboard, Sasha having joined her not that long ago. A smile came to Carol’s lips at the sight of Judith gurgling happily in Beth’s arm, having come down to just enjoy the calm afternoon and socialize. Setting the basket down, Carol patted her daughter’s shoulder gently before beginning on the rest of the clothes she had gathered. “So, what are you thinking for dinner Carol?” Sasha questioned with a smirk. It was an innocent question, considering that they mostly lived on whatever Daryl hunted and what dried and canned food they could scavenge. Hopefully, the garden would come in handy soon enough. “Well…Daryl told me how to make biscuits with some of the stuff we got in storage….figured that…if Daryl doesn’t bring home something I’ll open a can of beans or something.” She commented with a shrug and Sasha gave her a strange look. “Daryl knows how to cook?” She questioned, her nose scrunching before snickering. “Did not expect that.” She laughed brightly as Carol joined her in the light and lively tone.   
“Surprisingly he does…actually got some good ideas on how to use what we got....and I know how to substitute some things…wish I had something to mix with biscuits….fruit or something….none of that canned stuff.” Carol spoke with a scrunch of her nose at the idea of mixing the processed canned fruit with something freshly made like biscuits. Glenn had found some nice camping gear that had a travel size battery powered oven thing; Carol was not sure what to call it. She had wanted to try it out while they could. 

“Saw some cranberry bushes when we went on a run last week.” Sasha commented catching Carol’s attention. 

“Where?” Carol questioned.

“About a mile down the road or so. Think Rick would let us go?” Sasha spoke, seeming to get excited about the idea of doing a little traveling. Sasha and her brother Tyreese had been found near the prison during the first few days of settling. At first, everyone was suspicious of the two since they were new, but they had pulled their share of the work and had slowly been gaining everyone’s trust. “We can certainly try since it’s not too far.” Carol commented. “Then let’s go find Mr. Farmer.” Sasha chuckled, using the nickname they had overheard Daryl muttered before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Few second chapter up! Was not expecting to have the time to get it out so soon! My muse has been buzzing with this story so I hope everyone likes it so far. 
> 
> Thanks for reading <3


	3. First Encounters

How had such a simple thing as going a mile from the prison to pick berries resulted in staring down the barrel of a shotgun with the sounds of the moaning undead mere meters behind? It was suppose to be a simple outing, done in less than thirty minutes, then back to the safety of their home and the on goings of the rest of the day. Now, Sasha stood alone staring down the barrel of a shotgun, the undead crossing that distances with each passing second, and the pounding of her own heart in her ears. There was a moment; a frozen moment where she could not move and it seemed as if time had come to a slow halt. The sound of the shotgun rung in the surrounding forest, echoing too close to Sasha’s ears for comfort as a large hand grasped her arm tightly before giving a sharp pull. Suddenly, Sasha was being pulled deeper into the woods and farther from the approaching undead. The ringing of her ears was distorting, splitting her head in an awful ache, and she found herself unable to do much besides run with whoever had a vise grip on her arm. 

The forest passed in a blur of shapes and colors, leaves crunched beneath her boots with the twigs and branches, and the weaving left her dizzy and unable to focus. Suddenly, it was quiet and her running was slowing down to a jog before ending in the midst of a large clearing. The hand holding her arm released its grip. Unable to help herself, Sasha doubled over with heavy panting breaths. How long had they been running? Her muscles ached with the motion, her lungs burned, and it seemed like she could just not get in enough air. In what direction were they going? What direction was the prison? Moreover, where in hell’s name was Carol? This should not have happened! Rick had been perfectly all right with them going to hunt for the stupid little cranberry bushes. They were not supposed to be that far from the prison, Sasha did not remember them being so far from the prison. After walking about two miles, losing sight of the prison through the trees without any luck of finding the bushes Sasha spoke out, they had been debating about returning. Rick and the group did not expect them to be gone for too long, it was not a run or a hunt so it should not have taken them long. 

Carol had merely laughed at Sasha’s inability to remember where the cranberry bushes were, which made the young woman feel bad for dragging them out here in the first place. They had decided to head back when, of all things, a small herd had decided to move through the thick forest. There were only twenty or so walkers, not a bad number if they had a larger group of people. With the two of them, neither figured it was wise nor possible to take on so many. They had quickly disappeared into the forest, opposite the side the herd was moving, hoping to loop around the herd and head back to the prison. Sasha had not counted on meeting another small herd of ten or so walkers in the dense forest, causing her and Carol to be separated in order to survive. 

 

“Ma shimkha?” 

A deep voice spoke up, catching Sasha’s attention. Dark eyes glanced up to the person who had been leading her in what seemed like circles around the woods. Straightening up, Sasha took the man that stood before her in. He was one hell of a big fella; gracing somewhere, around 6’3” with a muscular if not aged appearance. Built like an aging tree, the man’s skin was olive in tone with striking grayish eyes. His brown hair, streaked with gray, was long, tied off with a hair tie, ending just below his shoulders. A thick, smooth beard matched the man’s hair covering the expansion of his face down his neck and trailing into the sides of his face. It was clear the man was older; his body while massive seemed to sag slightly with age. His skin marred with deep crow’s feet and soft sunspots. His large frame sported a pair of steel toe boots, run down jeans, and red plaid button down, sleeves rolled up behind his elbows. Man looked damn near the part of a mountain man, Paul Bunyan or something. However, Sasha had no idea what this man had just asked her, his voice thick with an accent that did not come from the south at all. Sounded almost foreign, but not something Sasha could put her finger on.

“Ma shimkha?” The man questioned again though paused as his grey eyes narrowed slightly and a soft hum escaped his lips. Without warning, a bright laughter escaped the man’s lips, his aged form shaking slightly. Sasha was not sure how to take this sudden outburst of laughter, the sound almost too joyous considering the end of the world and all. “S’orry, I ask name. Your name.” The man spoke, his English a bit broken up but somewhat understandable. Hesitantly, Sasha looked the man over once more before her lips moved to speak. “Sasha.” Something about this man reminded her of her father, an odd thing to think about after running for her life. There was something about the man’s appearance, the gentle nature of his features, strength of his eyes, and the gentle smile that never seemed able to leave. It was something akin to the look her father would give her, expressing all the love, joy, and peace in the world upon seeing his daughter. Sasha had to vaguely wonder if this man was a father, maybe a grandfather to someone. 

“Saha.” The man spoke and Sasha could not stop the slight twitch of her lip as the man mispronounced her name in his broken English. “Sa-sha.” She corrected, attempting to stretch out her name some. “Oh, Sasha.” The man stated with that gentle smile still in place. “Joshua. People call Josh though.” The big man stated holding his hand out to the smaller woman. Unable to help herself, Sasha remained cautious as she gently reached out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Josh.” This was strange, a very, very strange encounter. “What you doing running the woods alone? Not safe.” Josh spoke as soon as their hands disconnected his voice stern and slightly scolding. “I wasn’t alone. I got separated from my friend.” 

“Oh, not good…..not good.” The man muttered.

“Thanks for your help…but I should be going so I can find he-.” 

“Okay, I help.” 

“What?” Sasha questioned, stumbling in her surprise and confusion at the man’s sudden declaration to help her. “No, it’s okay. You’ve probably got a group or something to get back to.” What if the man had a group? A bit of dread seeded itself in Sasha’s chest at that thought, wondering if a group was living not ten miles from their home. “No, no group. Me and me girls.” Josh spoke with a nod of his head. “No group. One of my girls no likes groups much.” Josh explained. No group? How could a single man and two girls survive out here by themselves? 

“Come, come.” Josh spoke gesturing with his large hands for Sasha to follow. “My camp, it is this way. Me and my girls help find your friend.” He stated with a nod of his head as he turned in an attempt to walk in the direction he had gestured too. “Why would you help me?” Sash questioned cautiously, not sure how to react to strangers anymore. Tyreese and she had run across a few sketchy people in this new world. This new world changed people and not always for the better. “Lo hevanti?” Josh spoke, slipping back into his common tongue as he paused in his steps to turn and face Sasha once more. Realizing his mistake, he shook his head slightly and spoke again. “Don’t understand. Don’t you want to find your friend?” 

“I do, but why do you want to help me? What do you get out of helping me?” Sasha questioned. Was this man looking for a safe place? A home too? Was he looking for supplies? Could this be a trap? “What I get?” Josh spoke with a laugh in his voice. “I want to help, its right thing to do. Plus, Ivy would not talk to me if I no help good person.” The logic sounded so…simple coming from this man and it caused Sasha’s brow to rise as she reached up to adjust the strap of the rifle she balanced on her back. “How do you know I’m a good person?” Sasha questioned, wondering about this large man. “Gut tells me.” Josh spoke again, simple answer as if it was the only answer in the world. 

Frowning softly, Sasha seemed to take in what the man said before her dark eyes flickered over the surrounding forest. She had no idea where she was, between being dragged around and the herds, she had lost her sense of direction in the forest. There was no way to track back to the prison without risking going in the opposite direction and getting more lost. Josh seemed to be an all right person and while Sasha was cautious, she really had no other choice now. She could only hope and count her blessings that this man was as good as he seemed. “Alright...” Sasha muttered watching Josh’s smile widen as he gestured for her to follow once more.  
\--  
Muscles strained, pulling painfully in protest to any continued movements forcing Carol’s run to slow to a mere walk as the forest seemed to return to its peaceful silence. The sound of walkers long gone in the distances, far enough back to no longer be considered a threat. Breathing heavily, Carol looked around before cursing softly under her breath. She could see the road, the one Sasha and she had been traveling down to go berry picking. However, Sasha was nowhere to be seen and that caused a sharp feeling of dread to bubble in her chest. It was getting later in the day and the sun would be threatening to fall soon. It would be nearly nightfall if not fully night by the time she returned to the prison now. 

She did not want to think about how Tyreese would react to her returning without Sasha. The woman was resourceful and would survive, Carol was sure of it, but that did not mean she wished the woman to be alone. Continuing to walk through the dense forest, Carol figured the best plan of action would be to round about. Go back to where they had gotten separated and look for Sasha. If she could not find the woman soon, she would have to return to the prison without her. Not that Carol wanted to leave her, but it would not be safe to wander the forest at night. If she could not find her soon, she would have to get help, inform the group, and get a search party out as soon as possible. 

At least she knew what direction she needed to head in order to return to the prison. With that thought in mind, she began to double back, trying to remember where they had been separated in the forest. Twenty minutes of walking had resulted in nothing and Carol was wondering if going back earlier would be better. Maybe get a car, find the woman faster. It was then the sound of soft voices, carried on the breeze, reached her. Pausing, Carol attempted to figure out the owners of those voices, but the tone was too soft, volume to low. Shifting the shotgun she had brought with her, Carol pulled the weapon in front of her before slowly making her way to the source of those voices. Maybe it was Sasha? But there were more than one voice, was Sasha talking to someone? Alternatively,…could there be people living in the woods so close to her home? 

Carol could only be hopeful that her last thought was wrong as she paused to press herself against a large oak tree. The voices seemed to be fading, the sound of footfalls moving away from her telling her the figures were retreating. Shifting her weight, she slowly rounded the tree. She hoped to get a good look at who was talking, just enough for a peek. She did not want a gunfight to occur this deep in the forest, not with the threat of walkers all around, not with the threat of what all that noise could bring. 

What Carol had not expected was for the owners of those voices to be standing there, guns pointed at her, as she peeked around the tree. They were a good twenty-five or so feet away, a decent distance if Carol decided to run. “Who are you? What do you want?” A voice suddenly snapped at her, sounding hostile and threatening. The sight of the red haired woman and the black haired teen caught Carol off guard, having not expected such a pair to be traveling the woods. “It’s okay..” Carol found herself saying building up the courage to speak, knowing it could be dangerous if she did not. “I’m not here to threaten you….let’s just…talk.” The older woman’s mind was trying to remember how Rick would speak to people. How he spoke to Sasha and Tyreese when they had first meet, peacefully, easing into the   
situation. 

It was hard to assess how dangerous the pair were or could be. The teen seemed a bit shaky, but her gun was pointed firmly. Her eyes were narrow, stance wide showing her training with the weapon. All her energy seemed focused on keeping Carol in her sight, but every now and again, those eyes would flicker to the other woman. It would just be for a moment in the silences before her eyes were refocused on Carol. The red head, Carol felt was probably more of a threat. God knew how protective of Sophia Carol was; she could only imagine how protective the red head was over the teen. The read head was harder to read, long bangs covered most of her face, leaving little slits here and there. Carol could catch the sight of narrowed eyes through the slits in the bangs, but could not get a good read of the woman’s face. “Who are you? What do you want?” The woman questioned again, speaking her words slower and more firm.   
“Now…take it easy,” Carol began. “Put your gu-“

“Name, now.” 

Carol paused before sharply nodding her head. “Alright, it’s Carol. I was separated from my friend. I’m trying to find her.” She explained simply, watching as the woman’s head titled to the side. The sharp angles of her face were better observed as the movement uncovered more of the woman’s face. Woman looked like a feral cat, staring at Carol with this dangerous curiosity. “You got a group?” 

“Yes,” Carol spoke. “A very big one.” Well that was more of lie, a bluff in case this woman was dangerous or hell forbid had a group of her own. “And they will be looking for me and my friend if we do not get back. So I need to find her.” Carol continued watching as the woman’s head shift, tilting in the opposite direction. “Fuck…” The woman spoke softly. “We’ll have to move again..” The teen’s voice had caught Carol’s attention, a disheartened expression crossing her face. “You…don’t have a group?” Carol asked, slowly shifting her gun, lowering it cautiously. 

It seemed that was what the red head had been waiting for as her stance began to back off. She lowered her weapon, but kept it out and close. As if sensing what the older woman was doing, the teen followed suit. “No……just me and the girl and a man. We do not want any trouble.” The red head spoke, seeming to understand that in this situation, she was possible outnumbered and facing the possibility of pissing off a group of people. “Alright, no trouble. I just want to find my friend.” Carol continued.

“May…may I ask your names?” Carol spoke, as the tension in the air seemed to ease slightly. Maybe these people had seen Sasha come through, could be some kind of help at least. The red head seemed hesitant to speak to Carol on a deeper level before reluctantly she nodded to herself before speaking up. “Ivy….this is May.” She introduced acting as if Carol was pulling her teeth for the information. “And we haven’t seen your friend.” Ivy nearly snapped out as quickly as she did their names.   
“We’ve been hunting.” The teen, May spoke up catching Carol’s attention once again. Glancing at the bloody bundle near Ivy’s feet, Carol made sense of what was going on. She had stumbled upon the two while they hunted. That told her enough about the pair to know they could be dangerous, that is if they were as good as Daryl or Mere. “Shh.” A sharp hiss escaped the older woman, scolding the teen for speaking up. “What happened?” Ivy questioned reaching up to push her red bangs back and behind one ear. Her gaze was half-lid, eyes narrowed making it difficult to make much out of her face. “Went to pick berries and we got separated by a herd of walkers.” Carol explained.

“Walkers?” May questioned, nose scrunching as if the word was foreign and strange to her. 

“Rotters.” Ivy seemed to ease the youth’s confusion easily enough, to which May merely hummed with a tiny smirk. “I like that better than rotters.” She commented as Ivy’s hues flickered towards her. Raising a brow, the woman looked mildly upset and annoyed with the girl before focusing back on Carol. Seeing as how a gunfight was not going to break out anytime soon, Ivy slowly slipped her weapon back into the waistband of her jeans. 

“May….go on ahead…let Josh know I’ll be a while.” Ivy commented catching May’s attention. “Huh?” The teen questioned seeming baffled by the woman’s request. “I’m going to give Carol a hand…see if we can’t track her friend down. Go on, camp ain’t that far from here.” Ivy spoke, catching Carol’s attention as much as May’s. The girl looked confused, torn between the desire to stay with the woman and doing as she said. “Take the meat with you.” Ivy spoke, stepping away from May and heading towards Carol. “You’re going to help me?” Carol questioned, getting a nod in reply from the red head. “If you just got separated…means she can’t be too far. Not a fan of…leaving people behind.” Ivy explained, a slightly pained expression coming to her features.

“Will she be okay?” Carol questioned, pointing off towards May. Ivy never bothered to look back as May picked up the towel of meat before racing through the forest back the way her and Ivy had come. “She’s a smart girl. Camp’s not far anyways.” Ivy spoke coming to pause before Carol. It was then Carol noticed something, realized something had been off with this woman. Standing no more than five to six feet away now, Carol could see those milky blue hues and her gut sunk. “Stop staring.” Ivy hissed, her chin rising defiantly and her shoulders straightening out. Somehow, the posture and movement reminded Carol of Daryl, but she brushed that thought aside as she turned her eyes away. 

“You’re…”

“Blind? No shit..” Ivy spoke with a dry chuckle before walking towards the direction Carol had come from. “This the way you came right? Did you back track yet?” She spoke; not really waiting for Carol who was still lost on the fact the woman was blind. Ivy was blind, walking around a world filled with walkers as if it was nothing. “H-how?” Carol found herself speaking aloud only to realize how far ahead Ivy had gotten. 

Unable to entertain the idea for the moment, Carol moved quickly to catch up with the sharp, accurate, and quiet steps Ivy took through the forest. “Um, we got separated near the road.” Carol commented moving to step slightly ahead of the woman, attempting to lead her in the direction. “H-how…?” Carol found herself unable to voice the question again, which earned her a small snort from the slightly shorter woman. “I don’t need my eyes to see the world. Trust me; I can see more of this world than you can.” Ivy paused in her words as a small snorted laugh escaped her lips. “Trust me….ya right. We just meet what a stupid thing to say.” Pausing in her steps, Ivy tilted her head to the side, her eyes flickering closed slightly as she listened to the world around them.

“Well, I think I can start to trust you. You don’t seem to be doing anything to break it yet.” Carol stated reaching out to touch the woman’s shoulder. As if electrocuted, Ivy jumped with an equally sharp yelp. Stumbling back from Carol’s touch, Ivy faced the woman with a look of pure disgust and anger. “Don’t….don’t you dare ever touch me.” Ivy hissed at Carol, causing the older woman to take a step back in surprise. “S-sorry.” She stuttered. Carol could find no other way to answer this angry rejection of her touch. Not even Daryl’s flinching could reflect this woman’s sheer level of disgust or anger. “Just….just don’t touch me. I don’t like it. It’s disgusting.” Ivy commented moving several paces away from Carol. 

“I’m disgusting?” Carol questioned, sounding offended at what Ivy had stated. 

“What? No…well I don’t know you well enough to tell ya that. Your touch is disgusting. All human touch is disgusting because humans are disgusting.”   
Carol was not sure how to take Ivy’s bizarre yet somehow brutally blunt and honest words. Not sure how to react, not sure how to feel, silence stretched out between the two for a long time before Ivy finally sighed softly. “Look, let’s just find your friend okay. Longer we wait…” Ivy did not finish her sentence, but Carol had gotten the silent warning. The longer they waited, the more likely Sasha was dead or more lost. 

Taking lead, Carol lead them back to the road where Sasha and her had originally been separated. The area was quiet now, ground only littered with the few walkers Sasha and Carol had managed to take out as they made their escape from the herd. “Are you a…tracker?” Carol questioned, unsure of what to make of this woman. Blind and hunting and surviving in this world, Carol was not sure how she was capable of such things. “Were you together here?” Ivy questioned avoiding Carol’s prying.

“Mhmm. Tried to loop around the herd, tried to give ourselves enough distance between them and us. We got separated when we got a few meters into the woods.” Carol commented pointing off to the side of the road, where she recognized one of the walkers she had taken down before running into the forest. Realizing she was pointing and that Ivy could not see her, Carol hesitantly lowered her hand. “Um, this way.” She directed slowly walking in that direction, keeping an eye on Ivy to see if she would follow. 

Why had she allowed Ivy to come help her find Sasha? Carol was not sure if she could be held responsible for looking after a blind person in this new world. Then again, Ivy seemed like the type to look after herself. Hell, if her interactions with May were a hint to anything, Carol would almost think the woman was leading her small group of three. The red head hesitated for a moment before she was following Carol into the woods once more. 

They searched the forest for about an hour and at Ivy’s request, Carol found herself following the red head back to her camp. The woman said she wanted to check with Josh and May, see if Carol’s friend Sasha had come through or not. Carol had informed her of her plan to return to her group in order to get a search party together. Ivy seemed to think it was a good idea, but figured it would be easier to check with her group first. The woman went so far as to offer Carol a ride back to the prison. Josh owned a big Ford truck, still had a half a tank of gas. It would be more than enough to drive Carol back to her group well before nightfall. Ivy reasoned that it might give the group a little daylight to spare to continue the search that day if possible.   
“So where is your group at?” Ivy questioned, leading Carol through the forest. She paused here and there to run her hand over the bark of a tree. Her world revolved around knowing which direction she was facing and where she needed to go. She remembered how to feel the trees. The texture of a tree, the presence of moss, and such depending on the season gave one the idea of their direction. A tree varied depending on how the sun hit it, one side contrasting the other sharply depending on which side got sun and which side did not. Gave one an idea of the direction of the sun, which combined with the knowledge of how the sun moved resulted in a sense of direction. 

Pausing in her steps, Ivy kept her hand pressed against the bark of a large, thick tree. “What?” Carol questioned stopping but a step behind her wondering why the woman had stopped and having not caught Ivy’s previous question. Ivy was silent and did not move, her blind eyes narrowed in confusion.  
“Ivy, wh-“

“Shhh” Ivy harshly shushed Carol, waving her hand back at the woman in an attempt to make her quiet down.

Keeping her hand against the bark of the tree, Ivy slowly lowered herself to the ground. Once on her knees, she placed her free palm flat on the ground. This was not good. Ivy did not like this feeling and her expression clearly expressed her distress. “What are you doing?” Carol finally questioned, completely confused by the woman’s actions. 

Without warning, Ivy was standing up and reaching out to grasp Carol. She managed to grab the sleeve of Carol’s shirt, in which she pulled sharply making Carol stumble after her. “Ivy?!” Carol asked in pure confusion and surprise as she was pulled along by a woman who but an hour ago had been completely disgusted at the thought of touching her. 

“Vibrations.” Ivy answered as her pulls became a bit frantic, trying to get into a decent jog or possible a full-blown run. “Vibrations?” Carol questioned pulling her sleeve from Ivy’s grip causing both women to come to a firm halt. “Eh, don’t have time to explain.” Ivy sounded distressed, panic and worries seemed to paint her pale face. Her quick movements had forced a few locks of cherry red to flicker over her face. “Look, I can’t see things, but I can feel them. I can tell the different betw-between a human, a walker, a vehicle, a…um an animal based on how it moves. What sort of vibrations it makes on the ground, what I hear, or what I smell.” Ivy spoke   
hurriedly as if unsure how to explain all of this so Carol could understand without bolting from her spot. 

“I felt it through the trunk of that tree. A big vehicle is moving and a herd of walkers is coming through here…and it seems like there are a lot of them.” Ivy stated, seeming to bounce on her feet clearly ready to run. “You got all of that from the tree?” Carol questioned to which Ivy sighed. “Vibrations….you know what whatever, we need to move.” Ivy stated beginning to move without Carol, but only moving in hurried footsteps. “But, what about your group?” Carol questioned hurrying after the woman, cutting her off from moving much farther. 

Ivy stopped short, having felt Carol move past her. “That was Josh’s truck. I recognize the faint sound and the vibrations, and it is the only vehicle around here. We are less than ten minutes from where we were camped. Can’t be anyone else but them.” 

“How can you be sure?” Carol questioned to which Ivy sighed heavily. 

“I can just tell okay, now we need to get out of here. Josh and May are gone for safety and they won’t come back until its safe so we need to get somewhere safe.” Ivy commented and went to step around Carol only to freeze as the breeze brought the sounds of unwavering moans and hellish groans. “Fuck!” Ivy snipped out in a sharp whisper. “Come on.” She grasped for Carol again, but this time the older woman took Ivy’s hand. There was the look of disgust mixed in with the panic and desire to flee from the oncoming danger. “This way.” Carol explained pulling Ivy this time. “We’ll head for my group.” 

Pulling Ivy in the opposite direction, back the way they came, Ivy nodded as she began to match Carol’s pace. Taking back her arm, Ivy followed behind Carol as they began to race through the forest and away from the ground, shaking movement Ivy claimed was behind them. “Good, this direction is good.” Ivy panted out as they ran. “Why’s that?” Carol questioned as the sight of the road came into view. “Herd felt like it was moving away from us, parallel to us really.” Ivy spoke as they neared the road. Without warning, Ivy grasped Carol’s arm and pulled her back. “What?!” Carol snapped only to jump at the roar of a vehicle that flew down the road, passing in a blur from what she could see within the tree lines. “Other way. Stick to the forest, rotters will have heard that and will be crowding the road. It’s too open to get away from them.” Ivy commented. “Ya, okay. This way then.” Carol explained moving a bit deeper into the forest, keeping the road to her right as she headed in the direction of the prison. How the hell berry picking had turned into such a strange encounter, Carol would never be able to explain.   
\--  
“Where is she?” May questioned softly, pacing around a small courtyard of the prison yard separated from the vast field of grass by a large metallic fence. Upon returning to camp, May was introduced to a woman named Sasha. Josh had told her he had found the woman surrounded by walkers and wanted to help. Strangely, the woman had been looking for someone, a friend she had lost. Now, May was not stupid and instantly put two and two together. The woman Carol had been looking for Sasha and Sasha had been looking for Carol. Unfortunately, before she had a chance to express this knowledge their little camp in the forest was attacked by a moving herd of rotters. 

They had no time and no possible way of protecting their little camp against the number of walkers. There had to be at least fifty of them, attempting to move across the camp like a stream. They were outnumbers and only had time to grab their three main bags of supplies from the tent before Josh ushered them all into his large truck. He had sped off, ramming and running over walkers as he broke though the forest and onto the main road. May had watched the little camp of a single tent and small fire pit disappear as they drove. Sasha, seeming to have gained her sense of direction upon traveling the mile or so out of the forest onto the main road, pointed Josh in the direction of a large prison. She claimed her group was there and it would be safe, the only safe option.   
A half mile down the road from where they had broken through the forest, Josh stopped the large truck demanding May pull out the firecrackers from the glove box. Members of the herd had clearly been drawn to the sounds of the truck and Josh was in no mood to bring a herd of walkers down on Sasha’s group. Lightening them up, Josh tossed the firecrackers out of the window before stepping on the gas. The fireworks were loud, overshadowing the truck for a long enough time that the three were sure the herd would not follow along. 

Once at the prison, Sasha had been greeted by her older brother Tyreese, a woman named Maggie, and a man named Rick. They had been ushered past the gates and stopped in the larger of the two courtyards. Once the truck was turned off, Sasha was quick to explain the situation to the three people who had been at the gate. When Sasha claimed not to know where Carol was, May filled in the parts about how her and Ivy had found her. Josh was livid at the fact Ivy was still out there, having been since May had returned to camp saying Ivy would be along later. The woman had a habit of disappearing without telling people and while she always reappeared, it was terrifying when she was gone. 

May could tell that the man named Rick was the leader or at least one of them. He seemed nice enough, calm, and quiet. Seemed like the man always knew what he was doing or something to that extend. He had offered Josh and May a place here in the prison until they found their missing group member. Said something to Josh about staying longer under the approval of the council if and when Ivy was found. Due to the setting sun, Rick had gone against the idea of going back out into the forest. Not safe, not with the herd of walkers moving through, and not with the darkening skies. He had explained that if they were not back by nightfall themselves then a search party would go out at first light. 

At that decision, the woman Maggie had shown Josh and May a place where they could stay. Three cells at the end of Cell Block C, farthest from Maggie’s group and from the entrance meaning the only way out was to go past the rest of Maggie’s group. Maggie said it was so they could keep an eye on them, make sure they were safe, and make sure her group was safe until trust could be established, until the council decided if they were allowed to stay…that is if they wanted to stay. Things were confusing during that first hour at the prison as Josh and May were separately escorted to the prison showers so they could get cleaned up. Then, together they were lead to a little area filled with tables, some little cafeteria or something. There they were given a meal, which neither could fully stomach before they were allowed to explore the prison somewhat on their own. 

Josh was being ‘supervised’, best word May could think of, by Tyreese. The two men were talking quietly as they wandered the length of the fences. May, left in the care of Maggie, found herself uninterested in anything but pacing the small courtyard. Her green eyes flickering to the gate then the tree line, any place where Ivy could come out from. “You’re worried.” Maggie commented softly, a gentle expression on her face. There was some worry in her eyes, showing her own concern, and May had to remember the woman was waiting for a missing member as well. “Ya…sorry.” May sighed as she ran her hand over her short hair, having left her bandana in her cell. “I’m sure your mother will come back for you.” Maggie commented.

“Ivy’s not my mother.” May commented with a huff as she flopped down on the ground. Crossing her legs, she leaned on the palm of her hands, determined to watch the tree line and the gates all night. “Oh…sorry….I…was not sure what Ivy was to you.” The concern the girl had shown and the anger over not being able to go back out there to search for Ivy, had Maggie convinced the girl had lost her mother out there. There was the same pain, hurt, and fear that she had seen in Carl when Lori had died. The feeling of abandonment and nagging worry that chewed in the back of one’s mind. “She….I don’t know what she is to me.” May finally confessed with a heavy sigh. “She saved my life….took me out of a very bad situation…took care of me…” 

“Sounds like she’s family.” Maggie provided moving to sit on the ground next to the younger girl. 

“Then she’s the only family I got left.” May commented sadly.

“What about Josh?” Maggie questioned, raising a brow as she leaned back on the palms of her hands. A snorted laugh escaped May as she nodded slowly. “Okay, Josh is family too. Like a big old uncle or something, but…he’s not Ivy.” As May spoke, her voice dropped into a softer whisper. “Ivy…was so sure I would survive in this world. She taught me a lot and I know she has so much more to teach me. I guess….she kind of is like my mother.” May finally admitted as a warm hand touched her shoulder. “We’ll find them.” Maggie spoke softly, forcing a tiny smile. “Carol is resourceful and…it sounds like Ivy is one hell of a survivor too.” Maggie could not help but be hopeful. After all, what would they have left in this world if they did not have at least a little hope that things would work out. It was no promise, but it was something. 

Maggie could not help but jump when May tensed up, suddenly scrambling to her feet and to the fence. The heavy clanking noise seemed to catch Josh and Tyreese’s attention. Josh’s grey eyes watched May for a moment before following the girl’s gaze. In the fading twilight, the sky creeping in black darkness, two figures seemed to materialize from a spot in the tree line.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay please please please do not hate me!
> 
> I'm not very good with using foreign languages in a fanfiction, but I just could not help myself with Josh's character. He's exactly as I had pictured him so I wanted to try to give him some justice. Josh speaks Hebrew and what he said is translated below and I took the translations and the spelling from a Hebrew language tutoring website. So, if for some reason these are horribly wrong translations or something I apologize. I won't be using that many Hebrew words, trying to stick with common phrases and Josh's broken English.
> 
> “Ma shimkha?” = What is your name?  
> “Lo hevanti?” = I don't understand.


	4. A Bloody Reunion

The fading evening light, while breathtaking, was the farthest thing from Daryl Dixon’s mind as the sight of the prison emerged from the thinning trees. It stood there, silently against the backdrop of the world and while Daryl’s mind worried over with ideas of finding this place in ruins, it was as peaceful as always. God today had been one big mix of confusion, silent dread, and mystery. 

After leaving Carol that morning, Daryl had run across his brother Merle on his way out of the prison. With the prospects of going hunting, Merle had eagerly joined the reluctant younger brother. Daryl’s mind was elsewhere, wishing to be alone, wanting to ponder upon the nightmare that had tainted his sleep. It had been a while, a long while it seemed since he last dreamt of that person. Hell, that person appearing in his dreams usually was a good sign, not a nightmare. However, knowing that person was no longer around had turned it into a nightmare leaving Daryl with the guilt of having not done enough.

That person, Daryl could remember every little detail, every little moment spent together. From hot summer days swimming in a large brook to the cold winters huddled together for warmth in Daryl’s room when his daddy had been too drunk to notice the extra body in the house. Hell, the archer could remember everything good that had every happened from meeting that person to somehow being convinced to hold still long enough to allow a flower crown to sit upon his head. Sadly, he could remember the bad times as well, everything from that thin starved body to the broken expression covered in crimson to the tears when he had last said goodbye with a promise he never fulfilled hanging in the air. 

With his mind in so many places, so many deeply buried memories, Daryl had had one hell of a bad day hunting. Luckily, the snares they had set up had been enough to provide some meat. Mostly squirrels and a few rabbits that could make a decent dinner, it was enough meat until they had run across the tracks of a small deer. With the prospects of a larger kill, the brothers followed the tracks deeper into the forest eventually stumbling upon the remains of said fallen doe. From the appearance of the doe, sliced open with skinned muscle and flesh, it was clear another hunter had gotten there first. Though the fact the previous hunter had not buried the body had been a stupid thing considering how the walkers seemed o find fresh blood so appealing. 

Two things had crossed Daryl’s mind upon finding the dead doe, there was at least one person living near their home and his home and his new family could very much be in danger. Sharp blue eyes took in the scene, took in the layout of the small quiet clearing in the darkening afternoon sun. Daryl had managed to find three sets of human tracks, which somehow made his heart slip past his rib cage and into his stomach. Two tracks seemed to follow one another, showing a pair of humans that stuck close to one another, probably two people from the same group, if there was a group. What bothered him were the sizes, a small deep shoe print compared to barely there imprints of another slightly larger shoe. If Daryl had to take a guess, it was a woman and a child. Maybe a young teenager? Considering the print was not as big as Carl’s but maybe just a tad bigger than Sophia’s. 

Merle had mentioned something about women not hunting much, well not in their group anyways, meaning that if there was a group nearby there might not be many men. This was a hopeful thought, considering it meant a possibly smaller threat especially if children were involved. However, it was the idea of a group of women and children out in the forest that made Daryl feel sick to his stomach. Sure, he knew of women that could take care of themselves, but maybe it was the fact he was a man that had him worrying all the same. Hell, even Merle seemed uneasy with the idea of women and children running around a forest filled with walkers. Well, that was if it was a group. If it was just a woman and child? Well, Daryl felt even sicker at that thought.

Daryl had wondered if it really was just a single woman and child, considering the only other tracks around came from another small set of prints appearing in the opposite direction of the original two. To the tracker, this meant another woman or maybe a young man had approached the owners of the first set of tracks. Was this new person part of their group or a complete stranger? It was harder to tell as the tracks told him how the lightest tracks had followed the third set of tracks and the child’s tracks had gone in the opposite direction. Had the child been allowed to wander off alone? 

The brothers had decided to follow the child’s tracks, cautious and weary with the prospects of a group being close by. However, the forest was quiet with nothing but the softening noise of the wildlife and the low distant sounds of undead groaning. There had been a lot more of those walking corpses today, especially deeper in the forest. It had been less than ten minutes of following the child’s tracks for them to come upon an abandoned camp. Small fire pit long since burned out, single tent crushed to the ground covered in staggered footprints, and deep tire tracks in the mud. From the looks of it, a herd had come through here and whoever had been here had managed to get out in their vehicle. With a bit of searching, the brothers concluded that this was it. There was nothing more than this single camp and it was hard to tell how many people belonged to it. The tent looked barely big enough for two maybe three people at the most, including the child. 

From the tire tracks, Daryl had been able to conclude that they had escaped to the main road. However, what direction they went into was harder to guess. After all, there were only two options towards the prison or away from the prison. There was also the fact that those two tracks had gone in a different direction than the child’s. Those had been nearly impossible to follow as the tracks of walkers had clearly overlapped the original tracks. With not much else, to go on, Daryl and Merle had decided to hurry back to the prison. There was the fear that something could be going down there without them even though the day and coming evening had been quiet with no sounds of gunfire or conflict they were still eager to get back.

It was only confirmed when Daryl and Merle slipped past the tree line and took in the sights of the prison that they could breath just a bit easier. Rounding the fences, the brothers entered through the main gate, which was currently being watched over by Glen in the tall watchtower. “Hey.” He greeted with a strange mixture of relief and worry in his dark eyes as he took in the two brothers. The uneasiness was not lost on the younger hunter, who raised a brow and parted his chapped lips to speak. Yet, no words managed to pass his lips, interrupted by the sound of Maggie’s slightly panicky voice calling out to someone. Blue eyes flickered towards the inner gate as a small body slipped past into the main courtyard and down the drive, Maggie quick on the child’s heels. 

However, that youth stopped short a good ten feet from them, eyes wide with disbelief, fear, and what seemed to be disappointment. “May!” Maggie called out catching up to the girl who looked as if she was ready to cry. “Who’s the pipsqueak?” Merle’s gruff voice questioned from Daryl’s side. The girl was a young teen who looked about Sophia and Carl’s age, yet her eyes and firm look of disappointment made her seem older. Those green hues buried into Merle as if willing the man to catch fire. However, the gaze was foggy and unfocused as if she was not even looking at Merle but was staring out into the forest. 

Maggie sighed softly as she stood behind the teen, crossing her arms over her chest as the sounds of movement echoed behind them near the prison doors. “This is May.” Maggie introduced, her eyes still focused on the seething teen. “Um, Carol and Sasha went out berry picking earlier.” The young woman explained allowing her eyes to finally rise and lock on the brothers who had been out most of the day. “They got separated by walkers and Sasha came back with May and Josh earlier.” 

Daryl’s blue eyes narrowed as he took in what the woman had said, wondering who the hell would let Sasha and Carol out alone in the forest. Hell, Daryl knew who would allow it but why did they go out for something like berry picking? Even the hunter recognized that his anger was beginning to bubble and while it seemed silly considering how strong his family was, he was stilled worried over them. “Where’s Carol?” Daryl all but demanded, catching Maggie jump slightly at his sharp voice. Maggie had said Sasha had returned with strangers, which already put Daryl on edge, but she had not mentioned Carol had returned. Frowning, Maggie could not hold his eye contact as she finished. “Carol is still out there with one of May’s people.” Maggie finished.

“Then what the hell are ya all waiting around fer.” Daryl growled as he threw his string of hunts towards Glen. “We ain’t got much time ta be sitting ‘round then.” His mind was instantly focused on finding his lost family member, regardless of how idiotic it was considering how the sun was practically setting. No one could ever question Daryl’s loyalty to his family and what he would go through for these people in order to keep them safe. Hell, he could be damn overprotective of this bunch. If that meant wandering the forest in the middle of the night or risk being bit, hell Daryl would do it. He had lost too much, too many people already both before and during the end of the world. If he could prevent one more person from ending up dead, hell he would go so far as to sell his damn soul. 

“Oh, hold on now baby brother.” Merle spoke, grasping his forearm before Daryl could so much as pass the bigger man. Daryl was damn near willing to rip his arm from Merle’s grasp and sock the for stopping him, but the way his older brother held onto him told him he was not getting much farther. “What!” Daryl snapped, his blue hues narrowing on his brother in a cold glare before shifting away to the ground. He had never been able to look people in the eye long, even his own brother made it difficult especially with the look on Merle’s face. It was this look of concern and worry, hidden in a steely gaze that was directed at Daryl as if screaming at him for being an idiot. “It ain’t safe ta be going out there now, Darlina.” Merle scolded, using that stupid nickname that always got on Daryl’s nerves.

Sure, he had learned that little nickname was some sort of sign of affection from his older brother, but God did he hate hearing it sometimes. “Rick said if they don’t come here on their own tonight a search party will go out at first light.” Maggie finished as she gently laid her hands on May’s shoulders. “See there, Officer Friendly’s already got a plan.” Merle muttered as he felt the tension in Daryl’s body lessen only slightly. Daryl could tell that his group was already on edge. Just those few people there told him everyone was worried about the same thing. Worried for Carol and where she was and if she was safe. Everyone wanted to be out there right now looking for the beloved family member. Hell, even the teen Maggie had called May looked ready to bolt. 

Shit, Daryl thought to himself as he looked over the teenager. Merle had released his arm as soon as he was sure that his brother would not bolt out the gates. Here he was worrying over Carol with the rest of his group, when clearly they were not the only ones to have lost someone tonight. The teen still looked ready to cry, maybe even scream as she continued to stare past them and into the forest. Whomever she had lost out there with Carol was evidently important to her and Daryl knew that he had to keep in mind that they were going to have to search for more than one person at first light. That is, if the missing people did not show up here on their own. “So, pipsqueak, you’re gonna ruin that pretty face if ya keep staring at me like that.” Merle spoke, his gruff voice sounding rough and hard yet was speckled with amusement. “Didn’t ya momma every tell ya. Keep making that face and it’ll stick like that”. He continued. There was still worry there, but Merle was trying to redirect attention since they could not do much at this time. 

Green eyes instantly shot up to meet Merle’s and May blinked as if unsure Merle had actually spoken to her. Those eyes were hard and narrowed as what Merle said sunk in. “I ain’t a pipsqueak.” She instantly countered causing Merle to laugh loudly. “Damn, girl’s got some fire in her belly.” Merle spoke before stepping towards Maggie and May. Daryl had expected the girl to flinch, back up, or something considering Merle could be damn intimidating without meaning to. The man was big and well built and just had an arrogant attitude that was sometimes over bearing. However, that teenager merely stood up straighter, threw her shoulders back, and held out her chin in firm determination. Daryl had to take a double take on that stance, a stance that was challenging and ready. It was to show that this girl was trying to be brave and show she would not back down for anyone. The man could not help the sinking feeling in his chest as his stomach curled at the sight. There had only been one person who he knew of that stood like that, ready to defy the world in a heartbeat with that expression and body language. 

It seemed Merle was a bit thrown off too, but only for a moment as his lips curled in even more amusement. “Now where did ya learn to have such spunk kid?” He questioned as he placed his hands on his hips, his steely blue eyes locked on the jaded green of the youth’s. “My friend did….you know the one that’s still out there?” She spoke rudely, showing that while she was growing up she was still childish. A child forced to grow up early in this world, but still could not handle it without acting out. “Mhmm.” Merle hummed as he reached up to scratch at his chin in thought. “Must be one tough friend of yers. Ain’t no one stand up to me like that for a long time.” He continued before glancing back at Daryl. “Seems familiar huh little brother?” 

Those blue hues looked hauntingly sad at those words mirroring how his younger brother felt. “Well, don’t ya worry kid.” Merle spoke, his eyes hardening as he looked back at the teen. “If your friend taught ya ta act like that…I’m sure their one tough son-of-a-bitch and I doubt they’ll be gone long.” The girl took in what Merle said, her stance backing off some in favor of crossing her arms over her chest in self-comfort. Green eyes moved to the ground before a soft sigh escaped her thin lips. “Hey…” Maggie spoke up, squeezing May’s shoulders softly. “Why don’t we find Josh? It’s getting late and I’m sure you’re tired.” There was hesitation, another single long look over the tree line, and then another sigh as May nodded in agreement.

“Who’s Josh?” Daryl questioned Glen as Maggie led the teen back to the prison. His ocean blue eyes flickered towards the open door of the prison, catching the sight of a rather large stranger next to one of his own. “He’s the guy that got Sasha back here.” Glen commented. “Seems like a good guy. Sasha said he helped her escape from a group of walkers when she was separated from Carol.” 

“He seem weird? Dangerous?” Daryl questioned, wanting to know the opinions of his fellow group members. If anything, it would help Rick out later if the man decided to consider letting these people stay with them. “Well,” Glen muttered as he swung Daryl’s kills over his shoulder. “He’s got a thick accent and doesn’t have the greatest sounding English, but he seemed like a good guy. He is concerned about May and Ivy, um the woman who’s suppose to be with Carol. Guess May thinks of Ivy as her mother since she and Josh saved her from a bad situation in their old camp. I think he’s just a guy trying to protect and help his adoptive family.” 

“Eh? Daryl?” Glen questioned as he finished eyeing the hunter who looked rather pale. “Did you…say Ivy?” Daryl questioned, which Glen responded with a firm nod. 

“Ivy…what?” Daryl pressed to which Glen shrugged. “Not sure. I mean, I didn’t really bother to ask. Last names don’t really seem to be so important now you know?” 

“Ya…” Daryl grumbled as he began to walk away from Glen and head towards the prison, leaving Glen bewildered. Ivy, Glen had said the woman’s name was Ivy. There couldn’t be any doubt that this woman was NOT who popped into his mind in an instant. 

No, his Ivy, the Ivy he had grown up with was dead. He had seen it, seen the burning building taken out by the army’s attempt at aerial assault. He had found the burned remains of a red head and at first, he was not sure if that had been Ivy or not. However, a closer look at the woman revealed she was clutching a leather necklace decorated with an aged arrowhead. It had been a gift Daryl had made for Ivy when he was younger, a good luck charm, and a way to remember him. That was the sign, the sign that spoke the truth about the woman he had cared, his oldest and only true friend. She was dead; she died in that it aerial assault before this whole mess got out of hand. Somehow, he hoped that was better, stopped her from suffering anymore or something. 

Therefore, even though he knew May’s Ivy was not his Ivy, it had been the name that made him ache. He knew names were names and any number of people could walk around with the same name, it had been why he had questioned her last name. Coming to the prison doors, Daryl was greeted by Merle, who leaned causally against the metal frame. His brow was raised in confusion, wondering what had gotten under his younger brother’s skin. “The woman with Carol….her name’s…..Ivy.” Daryl muttered, having trouble saying the name. It was as if his mouth was filling with water, chocking the name before it even had the chance to escape his lips. Merle’s confusion faded into a knowing sadness, one that spoke of mourning and understanding. “Let’s get some chow and then hid the hay baby brother.” Merle spoke, turning and leading the way back inside of the prison. 

The night continued in a deep silence penetrated with tension, fear, and worry. It all made it difficult for anyone to get any sort of real sleep. The sounds of beds creaking as people shifted, soft voices of people whispering to one another, and the soft clattering from the armory just stressed the eagerness the group had for morning’s light. The only person who was getting any sort of good sleep was…well Judith, considering she was a baby and all she did not know what was going on.  
Daryl found Rick downstairs in a little area they used to store extra ammo, guns, and blunt weapons they had found. “Can’t sleep?” Rick questioned, spotting Daryl out of the corner of his eye. “Can anyone?” The archer countered causing Rick to hum in agreement. “So….what do you think of the newbies?” Daryl questioned as he sat down on one of the counters, absentmindedly check the ammo boxes that sat to his left. Rick, who stood on the other side of him, was cleaning an aged shotgun they had found in the warden’s office. “Seem like an alright bunch.” Rick muttered softly. “They don’t seem to be a threat…seems they are more worried about that Ivy woman then threatening us.” 

“Ya think they got a group?” Daryl questioned his voice gruff and low in an attempt to hide his distress over that name. “No…” Rick stated that simply as his blue eyes looked over the man he considered a close friend. Daryl had changed over time as everyone else had and now the man had taken the spot once occupied by Shane. Only, Daryl was better than Shane was. Daryl and him worked in sync, agreed on most things, and seemed to be the go-to people in their family. “Josh explained that…in the beginning it was him and Ivy. He convinced her to join a group early on. Ivy didn’t want to…something about not being good with people.” Rick spoke, brows knitting together in thought. “Sounded a bit like you.” He jabbed with a grin, listening to Daryl huff. “Ain’t my fault people can’t handle me.” Daryl jabbed right back, a small turn of his lips at Rick’s light hearted nature even if it was just a cover to hide the worry. “So, why were they in the forest if they had a group?” Daryl questioned, wanting to know the whole story or as much as Rick knew. “Well, guess the leader of that group was an asshole. Wanted people to trade him for his protection…got to the point where people were selling themselves or their family members in trade.” There was thick taste of disgust in Rick’s words as if the man found the whole thing vomit worthy. Daryl was not exactly pleased with that sort of running either. He was beginning to understand why they wanted to get away. 

“Guess they met May there,” Rick continued after a moment, “Girl’s parents weren’t treating her right and she got attached to Ivy. Her parents sold her to the leader of the group and Ivy blew up. He said that Ivy got May back from the leader…he ain’t sure how she did it, but she did. They’ve been traveling alone ever since.”  
“How we know they ain’t lying?” Daryl questioned, in response Rick shrugged slowly. “Only time will tell that.” He answered honestly, watching as Daryl slowly nodded in agreement. It was true, time would tell them if these three people were good people or not. “Now, what’s bothering you?” Rick question, always able to see through the nearly silent hunter. “Nothin’…just remembering old ghosts.” He commented simply enough, a simply enough answer that seemed to convince Rick for the moment. They had all lost someone to the end of the world, family, friends, lovers, and enemies. Sometimes you just remembered those ghosts and it hurt, Rick of all people could understand that. “Who’d you lose?” Rick could not help but ask, knowing it had to be someone from before they had met. “A…friend.” Daryl answered slowly. “Someone I grew up with…died when the army was dropping bombs and shit.” 

“They were in the city?” Rick questioned to which Daryl shook his head. “Nah, outskirts of Atlanta…Saints.” Blue eyes widened as Daryl realized when he had just allowed to spill past his lips. Damn today just could not get any worse could it?! Rick was the one person, besides Merle, that Daryl had a hard time shutting his mouth off to sometimes. “Saints...as in Saints Institution….the mental health hospital?” Rick questioned, getting nothing more than a curt nod from the archer. Silence seemed to stretch between them, Rick’s gaze on Daryl, but Daryl’s gaze focused upon the floor. 

“Wha-“

“Don’t ask Rick.” Daryl cut the other man off. “Just know…she wasn’t a bad person and she shouldn’t have been there…” 

Before Rick could answer his friend, the front doors to the prison slammed open. “Rick!” Maggie’s voice rang out, startling anyone who was not sleeping. Maggie had taken night watch with Glen, hoping two sets of eyes would be better to spot someone coming to the prison. “Rick!” She called again as Rick and Daryl raced out of the armory to meet the woman half way. “What is it Maggie?” Rick questioned sharply. 

“Carol and Ivy are at the prison gates. T-their covered in blood and mud and Ivy’s hurt something bad.” Maggie explained, shaking from the mixture of fear and adrenaline. “Glen’s getting the gate open and I came ta get daddy ready.” 

“Was she bit?” Daryl instantly interjected, though not surprised by Maggie’s unknowing expression. “Carol says she ain’t. Some head wound and a possible broken ankle, but we won’t know till we examine her. She’s barely awake.” Maggie finished just as loud footsteps echoed behind her, Glen’s voice bellowing from behind her. 

“Hershel!” Daryl, Rick, and Maggie turned to take in the sight Glen carrying in a young woman in his arms with Carol at his heel.

To say the two women were a mess was a complete understatement as the archer took in their appearance. Both women were covered from head to toe, caked in mud, walker remains, and a mixture of aged and fresh blood. It was so damn bad that Daryl could barely make out the women’s skin colors and hair colors. The woman in Glen’s arms was far worse off compared to Carol who seemed shaken and a bit beat up. Blood was pouring out of the now unconscious woman’s head, dripping down her forehead, between her eyes and down her chin. What appeared to be red locks had been pushed back earlier by either Carol or Glen or hell maybe by the woman herself before she passed out. Her face, while still plastered with dirt and mud, was fairly cleaner than the rest of her. The blood stood out sharply against her thin features and the jagged light pink scar near her eyes.

That scar…that scar stopped Daryl in his tracks, stopped his heart from beating, and his mind to blank as Glen and Rick rushed off with the woman towards Hershel’s cell on the second floor. It was as if his head was stuffed with cotton, the world fuzzy and passing by as if he was not really there. He could see Josh and May emerge from their individual cells. He could see May’s eyes widen and her voice loudly echo the woman’s name before being caught by the larger man before she could reach Rick and Glen. “Ivy!” May cried, tears streaming down her face in an almost slow motion until it all came rushing back like the opening of floor gates. “Daryl! We need to gather supplies.” Carol’s urgent voice brought him back, made him gasp taking in the precious air. He had not realized he had stopped breathing, his blue eyes flickering to Carol. He was numb, frozen, felt like he was drowning all at the same time. All he could do was nod, willing his cemented feet to follow the older woman in order to be of some use to Hershel and the others. His mind was focused on one thing, repeating itself repeatedly like a cultic chant. 

Ivy, his Ivy was here and alive…for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya~   
> Chapter 4 is out! This one took me sometime since work got me so busy.  
> Hope everyone likes this so far.  
> Please feel free to comment and thank you for reading!


	5. Links

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please Note:
> 
> \-----  
> Dream  
> \-----  
> Also the memory/dream at the beginning of this chapter was inspired by the song Room of Angel from Silent Hill 4: The Room. I would highly suggest (if you'd like) to check out the song. It's a great song and it fits the mood of the dream perfectly. 
> 
> Which I also do not own or have anything to do with. I just heard the song and got inspired. Some of the lines are reflected in the song but I went more with the theme/mood of the song over coping the lyrics down.

\----------  
There were these sounds….gentle tones that hummed in the night air. Beeps and the quiet lull of machines used to keeping the near dying alive. The room was cold, chilly really with the window open letting in the moon light. The wind rustled the curtains of light blue and the world seemed impossible still. Cold tiled floor met bare feet, the brush of fabric from a hospital gown the only unnatural sound in the night. Moving across the room, the hospital door closed and was solid behind her back, she listened to the mechanical noises of the room. 

The walk from the door to the bed was long and she felt as if she was moving impossibly slow. As if the darkness clung to her ankles, dragging her steps and keeping her back as she moved to the bed. Thin hands reached out to gentle clasp the rails of the hospital bed and then stilled allowing the sounds to be absorbed into her mind’s eye. A body lay upon the bed, silent and unmoving, quiet and unnaturally peaceful. Tilting her head to the side, she reached out her left hand to gentle brush against the right hand of the person in the bed. The body was cold, chilly somehow matching the person’s personality so well it caused a shiver down her spine.  
“Dearest mother…it was always you that I despised…” Her voice echoed softly as her free hand removed itself from the rail of the hospital bed. Touching the smooth cheek of the body’s face, the touch was unnaturally soft. The skin beneath her fingertips twitched, shifted, reflecting that the body was still very much alive but frozen in time by the machines and beeping mechanics. The body’s fingers twisted around the fingers of her left hand, holding her with an unfamiliar gentle touch. “I-I-  
Ivy…” The body’s broken, sore, and fading voice echoed around her in the darkness of the hospital room. 

Her right hand met with warm liquid, a sign that the body was crying, shedding tears that should have been given up long ago. “It was always you that I despised...I will never cry over you.” Her voice spoke soothingly, crooning the body of the person who always hid behind the mask of motherhood. “Goodbye…mother…” She spoke as her hands began to withdraw. The body’s hand latched sharply onto her left hand, holding on with the tightest of grips possible for a dying soul. “I-I’m…s-sorry.” The body spoke, voice harsh and broken. “My ang-angel…I-I’m s-sorry.” 

“I don’t feel enough for you mother…to cry…to mourn…to forgive…Goodbye mother…” She spoke as she pulled her hand free and her bare feet hit the tile again as the deep haunting sound of tears and hick-ups echoed behind her. 

“She’ll be fine.” An elderly voice echoed somewhere in Ivy’s mind, somewhere to her left. “There was a large cut on her head I’ve stitched closed and her ankle doesn’t seem broken. My guess is it is just sprained, but we won’t know that fully until she gets up and tries to walk.” The voice concluded talking to someone else in the room. 

Where was she? Her head was pounding something awful, a mixture of shooting pain from her head wound and old memories spinning around into a dizzy fit. The room was silent around her, the elderly voice had paused and his body had shifted. Had she made a noise? She could feel the beginnings of a groan ready to escape her lips in response to her pains.

“Ivy?”The elderly voice questioned low and softly, oddly soothing and oddly comforting. Heavy, her eyelids felt heavy but they eventually flickered open to reveal her milky blues to the world. “Ah, you’re awake.” The voice spoke again, gentle and soft as if speaking to a child. Ivy did not mind, she had never heard that tone before and she found that she did not mind it. A warm and aged hand touched her forehead, soothing back her long bangs. Maybe she was too tired or maybe she was in too much pain because she did not jump but rather flinched at the touch. 

Reaching up, Ivy gently touched that aged hand with her own. Maybe she was tired or maybe her mind had stopped working properly because she pulled that hand down to her cheek, nuzzling the warm skin gentle. Her eyes flickered closed once more and the hand remained frozen against her cheek, but it was so warm. Without realizing it, she felt herself losing her grip on consciousness and allowed sleep to overtake her once more.  
\----------  
Hershel watched the sleeping woman who seemed intent on keeping his hand locked against her cheek as she slept. It was a strange thing to witness but something told the older man that this woman needed this, needed this warm and soothing touch. The prison was quiet, having settled down about three hours ago. When Ivy was brought to him, everyone had been busy helping him do whatever he could for this woman. Between himself and his group, Ivy was somewhat clean, dressed in an oversized t-shirt and shorts, and her head and left ankle were bandaged up tight. This would have to do for now until the woman was up and moving, able to take a shower, and wear her own clothes.

The large man Josh and May had been the first people to come in once everything had settled down. His group had been respectful enough to keep their distance once it was clear the woman was not bitten and that she was stable. The teenager had been crying so hard it was as if she was convinced that Ivy was dying, leaving her alone in this hellhole of a world. It took Hershel a good ten minutes or so to explain everything to the teenager. Seeming unsure about believing him, but wanting to believe either way, May had been sent off to bed about two hours ago. Hershel knew the girl would only be sure of Ivy’s recovery once the woman actually woke up.  
“Never seen her sleep so well.” Josh spoke gentle, his voice a damn near whisper in the early morning hours. The large man had stayed behind, had stayed there for the length of three hours with Hershel. Maggie and Beth had attempted to convince Hershel to head to bed, but he simply could not sleep so he opt to staying with his patient incase anything changed. After all, a head wound could be a very serious thing in this new world of theirs. “She only sleeps few hours then up and wandering.” Josh continued standing in the doorway, his grey hues focused on the sleeping woman. 

“A loner then, huh?” Hershel spoke, thinking about some of his group members. “Something likes that.” Josh commented in return. The large man had been spending the last few hours talking to Hershel about a variety of things and Hershel was beginning to think of Josh as a familiar. The big man obviously cared about Ivy and May and the way he acted told Hershel that the man was holding some sort of fatherly position over the two. Within those three hours, Hershel had learned that Josh had once been married and had a daughter of his own. The man explained to Hershel that his wife had died of illness and that he lost his daughter to herself. 

After the extensive illness that his wife had suffered, his daughter had begun to take the blame sprouting out nonsense about not doing enough for her mother, not loving her enough. Watching a parent die was something harsh and unreal for most children and it always took something with the child. One had to be strong and understanding of the death, understand it is not the end of the world and that memories served as strong embraces to keep one steady. Josh had taken his wife’s death fairly well, knowing she was now free of pain and peacefully resting. He had vowed to her that he would see her again one day, but that he would live his life and take care of their daughter. 

Unfortunately, one cannot save everyone especially from himself or herself. Josh had confined in Hershel that his daughter had been losing her grip on sanity with her mourning and he had done everything he could to save her. He had taken her to all the doctors, psychologists, and specialists that he could think of. There had been a mixture of diagnosis sent his way ranging from server depression to his daughter possible being bi-polar. It all pointed to the fact that his daughter was mentally ill and he was not sure if it was something that was there before or after his wife’s death. Either way, Josh had ended up placing his daughter into Saints Institution, visiting her every single chance he got with the hopes she would get help and come home soon. 

Saints Institution, according to Josh, was the place he meet Ivy at several months before the end of the world. Ivy had been his daughter’s roommate and seemed to be his daughter’s only friend in that place. During those few months, Josh had gotten to know Ivy who seemed just as hell bent on getting his daughter out of there as he was. Hell bent on showing his daughter that her mother’s death, his wife’s death, was not her fault and impossible to stop. When questioned about it, Ivy had merely smiled at him and explained that a girl who had a good family should spend as much time as she could with them. A good family, a loving family was something to be treasured and embraced no matter the size. Even back then, Ivy did not like to be touched and would bolt across the room the second you got too close. 

However, Josh had seen in those moments that Ivy was someone lost in this world. Familiar with icy touches and masks, but fully aware of what warmth and truth were. She was someone who had seen both sides of the world, but seemed to think she only deserved the cold and hatred filled side. Even if this was something she thought of, she only expressed warmth, truth, and care for others. Josh had found the woman to be a strange mixture of fire and ice, and with everything she was doing for his daughter, he had felt a connection with her. Josh had explained to Hershel that in the few months he had been there, Ivy was never visited by anyone. Woman claimed she had been abandoned by her family long ago and that there were two people she was patiently waiting on to come to her. She always seemed excited when she spoke of those people, claiming they had promises for her that they would keep, and that she would be happy all the time. 

Josh never saw those people, but Ivy still somehow held onto the hope that they would come for her one day. The woman was only at Saints Institution because she lacked a support system, had nowhere to go, and no one to take her. Ivy had explained to him that she had been put there by the request of one of her parents, and while the doctors managed to help, they all believed that she was suffering from her past but that she did not belong in the institution. Sadly, Josh had been informed by the redhead that her parents were dead and she had no relatives. Being blind and having suffered from her past, the doctors did not want her living alone and would only release her if she were going to live with someone. Ivy was convinced that she would be leaving the institution soon, claiming that someone special had promised her that he would take her in. 

However, that person, those people Ivy spoke about had stopped coming to see her sometime before Josh had come to the institution with his daughter. As time passed and the end of the world came closer, Ivy slowly stopped talking about leaving Saints and instead focused on getting his daughter out by helping her. Sadly, Josh had lost his daughter about three months before the world ended and he still was not sure if it was a good thing or not. He had been phoned in the middle of the night, claiming his daughter had passed away. She had decided to kill herself, hanging herself in her room while Ivy was in a session with her therapist. A note had informed him that she was sorry but the guilt had eaten her alive. Josh had mourned heavily over her and nearly lost himself over it. Then, the world had ended and Josh had been willing to allow it to take him. 

He had decided to allow the world to end around him, but he wanted to do so near the graves of his wife and daughter. He wanted to die with his wife and child as the world crashed around him. However, the drive to the cemetery had taken him past Saints Institution. The building was standing tall and quit as sirens in the backdrop of Atlanta echoed in the breeze. People were fleeing the place, doctors and patients and guests. It had been by complete accident that Josh had spotted Ivy, considering he nearly ran the blind woman over. She had dashed from the building heading towards the lingering Georgia forest that sat in the outskirts of Atlanta. On complete impulse, Josh had jumped from his vehicle and caught up with her. Somehow, he had convinced her to come with him. Something told Josh that this woman needed to survive, that he could help her survive. Maybe it was because she had been there for his daughter. Maybe it was because he felt she deserved the chance to live. Maybe it was because he had come to think of her as his own because she had no one. Whatever it had been, it had pushed him to convince Ivy to travel with him. 

They had been together ever since, gaining May but a few months back. Hershel was unsure of why the man would explain all of this to him, but if there was, one thing the older man knew it was talk. Sometimes people just needed to talk, get things off their chest, and if he could help then he did not mind it. From what Hershel could see and from what he heard, he could tell that these three had gone through an awful lot so far. Yet, there was something there that was not stolen away that made Hershel believed they were good people. They had humanity, they had somehow held onto their humanity just like the rest of them. Somehow, these people still helped others, cared for others, even if they feared getting too close. In Hershel’s mind, these people were good people and his gut told him that they were more likely to disappear than threaten them. 

Josh seemed more than comfortable to share his stories with Hershel and after explaining how he met Ivy, he spoke about some of the fun they had had while traveling. He spoke proudly of the woman lying in the bed, explaining how good she was at everything she did even without her eyes. From hunting to sewing, the woman just seemed to be an endless fountain of knowledge and determination. It was as if she was built to survive this new world and while she feared the touch of people, she craved it. She craved for those around her to be happy, craved for their survival, and was determined to teach them all that she knew. Josh had already warned Hershel that the woman was disgusted by human touch and would reject it when she was conscious. However, according to Josh her reactions to touch would die down over time the more familiar she was with someone. The large man had honestly been surprised by Ivy’s unconscious reaction to Hershel’s touch, but he had merely smiled softly.

“You should head to bed.” Hershel commented as he smoothed back the woman’s hair. “I’ll stay here with her.” He commented, trying to usher the clearly exhausted man to bed. Josh was most certainly a father, for he lingered there and only after being scolded again by Hershel did he do as Hershel instructed and headed for bed. It was painfully clear that Josh thought of Ivy like he did his daughter. From what Hershel had been told, it seemed that Ivy was someone who needed that. She sounded like someone who had not had that.

Another hour passed by and Hershel found himself waking to the sounds of someone moving around. He had somehow fallen asleep in his chair, not a good thing considering his age and the fact that he had only one leg. It had been a narrow escape upon coming to the prison and getting it cleared out, but losing a leg was nothing compared to gaining this place. However, sleeping in a chair only caused his leg to go numb as well as the hand that Ivy seemed hell bent on keeping a hold of in her sleep. 

Tired eyes flickered open and widened in surprise. “Daryl?” Hershel questioned the quiet archer, who was perched upon the mattress of the bed next to Ivy’s side. He was leaning on one of his arms, half-hovering over the woman while his free hand combed through her short red locks. There was this sadness to the hunter’s expression mixed with relief and happiness. At the call of his name, his hand stopped moving and he seemed to tense up. 

As if he had been scolded for his actions, Daryl seemed to sit up quickly his left arm wrapping about his chest to hold onto the forearm of his right arm. It was some  
form of self-restraint or self-defense, Hershel had been slowly learning to read the signs Daryl expressed to others. It seemed the man spoke more with his body language than his words just like right now. “You know her.” Hershel spoke, stating a fact and not questioning it. 

Daryl would not look at him, his gaze focused on the floor as he raised his right arm and began to gnaw on the nail of his thumb. His blue eyes flickered from the floor, to Ivy, and then to Hershel a few times. The silence stretched on and Daryl’s nervous ticks seemed to worsen for a moment before he spoke. “Ya.” He muttered around the thumb in his mouth. “I…recognize the scar and then I heard Josh talkin’.” Daryl finished, seeming to explain himself to Hershel. The older man was someone Daryl greatly respected and while he was reluctant for the older man’s help, he found him to be trust worthy and a strong support. 

Hershel could not help but watch, his aged eyes studying Daryl closely. The man seemed to be holding himself back, keeping himself in check if his nervous ticks told him anything. The older man did not question how Daryl knew this woman. After all, this world was a small place and it was possible to be reunited with someone, just like the stories Hershel had heard of Rick reuniting with Carl and Lori. Somehow, the man was a bit happy with the fact that there was someone else around that Daryl knew before the world ended. “You heard Josh?” Hershel could not help but question, raising a brow as a fatherly scrawl came to his features. “Son, you know eavesdropping ain’t right.” He scolded, firmly yet softly. 

Daryl seemed to flinch at that and a flash of guilt colored his expression for a moment. Therefore, Daryl had been eavesdropping on their conversation. Hershel had to pause before sighing and shaking his head. “If you’ve been out there for that long, you should have just come inside.” Hershel scolded again in that same tone. Silent enveloped the room again as the elder man waited for Daryl to speak. Turning his attention to Ivy, Hershel sighed as he reached out gently taking the woman’s hand that held his own. The woman had a damn near vise grip on him the likes of which he only remembered seeing when Beth, Maggie, and his other children had been young and too tired to leave their father. 

A small snort escaped the silences in the room, catching Hershel’s attention. Noticing the man’s eye, Daryl flushed softly with embarrassment. “S’ she always does this…use ta…when she’d have a nightmare.” He explained, letting go of the information that he had known this woman since childhood. “Oh?” Hershel spoke gently. “Any suggestions on getting me free?” His tone was light now, a bit playful. “Gotta give her something warm.” Daryl spoke as he shifted to stand up. “Just a sec.” He grumbled lowly as he slipped out of the prison cell and disappeared down the walkway. Something warm? Seemed Hershel was right to assume that the woman really did crave warmth. 

Questions filled Hershel’s mind and he could not help but wonder what had happened to this woman during her life. From what little he had gathered from Josh and Daryl, the woman must have suffered. If she was friends with Daryl as a child, she must have gone through similar things as Daryl. Now, Hershel did not know much about Daryl’s childhood considering how the man kept to himself, but he had seen the man’s scars. He had seen them every time he had to patch Daryl up and he knew those scars were old and purposeful. If Daryl had suffered from child abuse growing up, it was possible Ivy did as well considering some of what Josh told her pointed to behavior similar to Daryl’s. Somehow, it felt like these two returning to one another was a good thing, kindred spirits, reforming a link lost by time. After all, sometimes to heal someone you must understand how it feels to walk in his or her shoes. 

Hershel did not get much time to ponder as Daryl reappeared with a poncho he had found sometime back. The wool fabric was thick and heavy, probably very warm. “It’s been sunnin since Carol washed it.” Daryl explained. “S’ nice and warm.” He spoke again as he quickly retook his spot next to Ivy. While it was not nearly as warm as it had been when the sun was shining, it still had a good amount of warmth in it. Daryl used it often enough with the cooling days and nights, so Hershel took his word for it being warm. Gently, Daryl draped the poncho over Ivy’s body nestling a good amount against her cheek. Almost instantly, the woman shifted in her sleep and released Hershel’s hand in favor of the warm fabric. The woman inhaled deeply in her sleep before completely relaxing once more. 

With his hand free, Hershel flexed his fingers to rid himself of pins and needles. A smile was upon his face as he looked at Daryl. “Thanks.” He commented softly before shifting to grab his crutch from against the wall. With a bit of effort, the man got up, and hobbled to the door. Pausing, he placed his hand gently on Daryl’s shoulder. Ignoring how Daryl flinched only slightly, Hershel squeezed the man’s shoulder before letting go. “I think I’ll head to bed. Your friend will probably want to see you first after all when she wakes.” With that, Hershel left Daryl and Ivy alone in the small prison cell, the only light coming from a small camping lantern hung on the wall.

Once Hershel was gone, Daryl shifted closer and resumed brushing back Ivy’s hair from her face. He could not believe his eyes, could not believe that she was really here, and that she was really breathing. “Scared me ta death idiot.” He muttered softly, not caring he was talking to someone who could not hear him nor respond back to him. “Haven’t seen ya in months…damn near year or so now huh?” 

“I…I hope ya knew, know, I was plannin on keepin my promise to ya. S’ just…” Daryl sighed as he pulled his hand away to push some of his own overgrown bangs from his face. “The old man got ill…then passed away. We couldn’t stay in that shack shit no more so Merle and I…well…we left, but we only had so much money on us. Stayed in a motel for a real long time…huntin kept food on the table like always, while we tried ta get some decent work.” Pausing Daryl shook his head, finding it difficult to fight the guilt he felt for leaving this woman. “Was gonna come see ya again…soon as I got a job and enough money. Merle and I, we was planning on getting an apartment or something. It wouldn’t a been much but we could have brought you there. ‘Cept finding a job ain’t easy when you never finished high school and Merle…well that asshole went and got himself into trouble with fucking asshole sellers. It was getting better…finally found a job too. Was gonna work construction, nothin’ special. Figured I was always good with my hands, making stuff for a living wouldn’t a been bad. Got luck through a guy Merle knew, but…then the world went ta shit and people started eating each other.” Daryl stated with another sigh as he reached out to gently touch the back of Ivy’s hand feeling the smoothness of her skin seemed to help him relax a bit. Knowing she was alive somehow helped his guilty heart and conscious lighten some.

“Merle and I…we went to Saints ta get ya when the world went ta shit, but…we got there too late. Army had dropped bombs on half of Atlanta by then and Saints had been hit too. Found a dead redhead, burned badly, and thought it was you. Figured it must have been because she had that damned arrowhead I gave ya when we were like sixteen.” Daryl could not help the small dry laugh that escaped his lips at that. “We mourned for ya as we traveled, getting away from the cities…finally ran into this group here in the prison. They’re a really good group…a real family.” Daryl muttered feeling the sting of unshed tears he rushed to let fall as he spoke. All those months ago, the memories and the pains were as fresh as they had been.

“Not….your…..fault. Ya didn’t know.”

Daryl nearly fell off the bed at those words and that voice, his blue eyes snapping back to Ivy’s face locking with half lid milky blues. “Ivy..?” Daryl questioned, unsure and worried about the woman as if she would disappear if he spoke too loudly or got too close. She looked exhausted, pale face paler than usual, with deep bags under her pretty eyes, but her lips were curled in a smile Daryl hadn’t seen in so long. “Ya talk loud ya know.” Ivy commented softly, her eyes sparkling with tears as her lips quivered causing her smile to fade. “I thought ya abandoned me…forgot about me.” She spoke, her voice cracking as tears began to slide down her cheeks.  
Without another world, Daryl leaned forward and scooped the smaller body up, allowing Ivy’s face to bury in the junction of his neck and shoulder. Thin fingers clasped like irons in his shirt as sobs began to rattle Ivy’s thin body. Daryl could feel the warmth of tears on his skin and he could not help the ones that traced his own. Ivy did not jump or flee from his embrace, from his touch. She never did and never would. “I’m so sorry.” Daryl muttered sadly, only causing Ivy to shake her head firmly against his skin. 

“No, ya ain’t gotta be sorry. You’re here now.” 

“And I ain’t leaving you again.” Daryl replied as he held the sobbing woman until she lost her battle for consciousness once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG this story is totally becoming my baby <3 
> 
> I hope everyone likes it so far. I just want to THANK EVERYONE so far who has taken the time to read it, kudos it, and/or bookmark this story. I'm glade it is getting some attention and I hope you like it as I continue to write more and more of it.


	6. Recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \------  
> Dream/Memory
> 
> \------

\---------------  
Laughter….bright and fleeting laughter rang in his ears as brightly as morning wind chimes. The summer heat was swelling with humidity and the denial of rain. Sweat dripped down his brow but that did not matter, his skin ached with fresh bruises of yellow and purple, but still that did not matter. No, what mattered then was the bright laughter from the fourteen-year-old sitting across from him. 

Her hair was long, cherry red, held in pigtails by a set of ribbons tied perfectly into bows. Wearing nothing but shorts and a mid drift tank top, showing so much pale skin that never seemed to burn or bluster with the sun. He could see her marks, the tall tale of her home life and she could see his, well could feel. Her thin hands pulling his in some stupid hand game she had learned from her Nana. While his were thick, splattered over his form, her marks were thin and delicate showing the difference between fists and sharps. Yet, that did not matter. It did not matter to them, never had it seemed. 

Sure, he was a few years older and sure, the hand game was dumb as hell, but he would not trade this moment for anything. His hands slowed, grasping her wrists gently and pausing the laughter in her voice. “Given up already?” She questioned a smile upon her pouty pink lips. “Naw’.” He replied gently. “Ya know…yer my best friend right?” He questioned earning laughter in response. “Course’ stupid….what else would I be?”His grip tightened upon her wrists, a sign of the serious nature of his words. 

Her laughter paused and her beautifully endless white hues stared at him as best she could. “I’m gonna get ya outta there.” He spoke sharply, softly as if he was so sure of it, so positive that it would happen. A tiny, but sad smile appeared upon her face and her left hand slipped from his grasp. “Oh, Daryl…”

“Don’t make promises ya can’t keep.” The voice doubled, layering with the young voice of the fourteen year old and the older voice of a twenty nine year old. The brightly lit summer covered field faded to a cold and empty room. He was no longer the teenager in the field; he was an adult now and she well she was still beautiful. 

Their hands were still interlocked, her hand upon his face, but she was different. She was quieter now, sadder, her pale body paler and her thin form thinner. Every inch of her flesh was covered in a long skirt and a turtleneck. She sat across from him at a wooden table under artificial lighting. 

He reached up for that hand upon his cheek, pulled it to his lips to press a soft kiss. “Ya know…yer my best friend.” He commented, repeating the words from childhood. “I know…and yer mine.” She spoke, tears already coloring her eyes a deeper shade, tinting them blue. “Then I promise ya, I’ll come back for you. I’ll get ya out….and you’ll never suffer again.” So much determination and strength came to those words and even she was taken back a bit. Yet, the hope grew in her eyes, and her smile grew a fraction bigger. Tears began to stream down her face and she laughed wetly. “Don’t ya make me wait too long then….hell I’d rather be with you…just with you…even if I never get outta here. “ She meant those words, he could tell, but he still told himself he would get her out. Neither of them deserved the suffering   
of their past, but he wanted to make her happy. 

\-------------------------

A tiny whimper and the shift of a body caused Daryl’s eyes to snap open and his body to tense. He was on high alert for but a moment before he remembered where he was, in the prison, in a cell, and with Ivy. Pausing, Daryl glanced quickly to the body on the bed from his position on the floor. He had found himself settling into a seated position on the floor; head leaned back against the flat mattress when Ivy had fallen back asleep. Didn’t think he was going to fall asleep like that but the encounter had made him exhausted. 

Somehow he worried she would not be there when his eyes opened, but she was and she was still sleeping. She lay on her side, curled tight around the poncho he had given her last night to keep her warm. A small, warm smile came to Daryl’s lips at the sight and he let go of a breath he had not realized he had been holding. Closing his eyes again, he leaned his head back to merely relax in the reality of the situation. She was here and she was alive. However, the lingering memory of his dream still ached at his heart, pulling the string of guilt around tighter. He should have done more, been there more, something! The second they heard about people dying he should have been there for her! 

They had been there for each other since childhood, comforting and caring for one another. He had made promises that she had never really seemed to fully accept, but hoped for. Always claiming, as long as your there, she was happy. That was never enough for him, it never had. He had seen it in her eyes since she was four and he was nine when they had first met in the forest of their small hometown. There was a sadness there that broke his heart and his heart demanded that he fixed it. He could remember those summer days, the laughter, and her happiness. It was not always pure happiness, but it was something and he longed to see pure happiness in her expression. Yet, he had fucked up, messed up, and now the guilt was loaming in his stomach. Yet, she was here and she was alive. Surely, he could still keep his promise to her. Sure, he failed to get her out of those situations, failed to come to her but he could be there for her now. He could protect her now and make her suffering go away. He could be here for her, as she had always been there for him. 

“Ow!” Daryl suddenly hissed, his mind breaking from its thoughts at the feel of a hand landing harshly on his head. The hand was still for but a moment before thin fingers were gently combing through the overgrown locks. “Ivy?” Daryl questioned softly, feeling that hand stop and then a sigh of pure relief. “Ya really are here…….damn…thought I was dreamin’ last night.” She whispered softly in the early morning light of the cell. Reaching up, he took that hand and pulled himself off the ground. Groaning at his sore back from the akward sleeping position, Daryl seated himself on the bed next to Ivy’s knees. 

“Ya ain’t dreaming nothing.” Daryl commented softly, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “Thought ya’d…be more pissed when ya saw me though.” He commented honestly, but Ivy merely huffed softly. “More excited ta see ya again….hard to be mad at ya.” She commented before shifting in an attempt to sit up. Seeing the instant flash of pain across her face and how her free hand came to her head, Daryl was quick to place his hands on her shoulders. “Easy there…lay back down..” He commented gently pushing her back onto the mattress. “God, I feel like I was hit by a truck….”

As she spoke, she raised her free hand to Daryl’s face. Lightly touching his cheek, her fingertips began to trace the features of his face. He did not even bother flinching. She placed the softest touch to his brow, lingering gently over the shape of his eyes, his nose, his mouth, and cheeks and even tugged gently at the scruff on his face. Daryl knew this movement, knew it damn well, and knew she was seeing him. She saw him through her fingers, had memorized his features years ago. It was her confirmation that he was real and that he was Daryl. 

“Ya sure about that?” Daryl questioned, the lingering of a bad joke and a horrible memory tainting the words. Ivy didn’t so much as blink at the comment, having heard it before and shook her head. “Naw…this is better…truck knocked me out for a week. Where am I?” She questioned, changing the topic. “Carol brought ya back to the group…my group I guess..” he commented not sure how to explain himself. “We’re in a prison.” 

“It that why it echoes something awful?” She commented, dropping her hand. 

Daryl blinked at that before frowning at her statement. That’s right, Ivy saw with her senses and she had always been terrible in places that where too spacious or unknown to her. The prison certainly was empty, large, spacious, and its construction made one’s steps echo. “Ya, but…you’ll get use to it. Got use to that damn cave.” Daryl spoke, remembering fondly of a little cave in the forest they had explored one fall. “Use to it?” Ivy questioned as she shifted to sit again, her hands instantly shaking off Daryl’s showing she had no desire to lay down. 

“Shit…Daryl I have to go.” She commented instantly pulling the blanket back and swinging her legs over the side. Shivering at the chill in the morning air, considering lack of clothing, her bare feet hit the concrete floor. Before Daryl could say anything, she attempted to stand only to release a loud cry of pain with Daryl bolting up from the bed to quickly catch her. “Fuck Ivy, stay still.” He growled lowly forcing the woman to sit down again, but Ivy didn’t seem to want that. “I have to go…” She spoke, her voice beginning to edge with panic as she tried to stand again regardless of her bad ankle. “Stop.” Daryl commanded softly holding her down by the shoulders firmly before she could attempt to get up again. She wiggled and squirmed against his hold, her white eyes dazed, fuzzy, and unfocused. 

In but a few moments, she stopped to place her hands on her head groaning in pain. “What the hell rattled you so bad? Where the hell ya gotta go?” Daryl questioned, worry lacing his words and fear at the thought of losing this woman again. “Go-gotta get back…May will be so mad..” She spoke and Daryl paused at her words. “May and Josh?” He questioned watching as Ivy, still holding her head, shifted her gaze as best she could towards his face. Surprise was expressed upon her features and Daryl could not help but chuckle softly at the sight. “They ran into Sasha…um..the person Carol was with yesterday…they’re here too.” The relief he saw was..well..it was as strong as when she realized that he was there. Somehow, Daryl took that as a sign of how much the redhead cared for her traveling companions. 

“Good….good….” She spoke, with a gentle smile upon her face and her body relaxing.

Silence stretched between them and neither moved. Once Daryl was sure Ivy was not going to be getting back up, he released her shoulders, and took up the chair   
Hershel had been using the day before. Sitting across from her, he looked her over having not seen so much of her flesh since she was younger. The thin white-pink scars that traced her limbs like stitching, waving and curling in unnatural patterns like some sick piece of abstract art, were somehow a beautiful eye sore to him. He hated those scars had for so long, but just like his own, these scars were part of Ivy. His eyes lingered on her legs and the markings before shifting to her waist and her body hidden beneath the oversized t-shirt. She looked thin and Daryl was suddenly determined to make sure she put on some proper weight. She needed it considering her darken and slightly sunken eyes, prominent cheek bones, and the near sickly pale color of her flesh still covered in dirt and gore from the night before. “Need ta get ya showered and feed.” Daryl finally spoke up breaking the comfortable silence. 

“I’d like to see May and Josh first…kinda…owes it to them for disappearing on them.” Ivy spoke softly, her left foot shifting out to touch Daryl’s ankle. Daryl smirked at the gesture; he could tell Ivy was trying to stay as close as she could to him as much as she could consider her head was probably pounding still. Hell, he was planning to stick close to her unless he absolutely had to leave. He’d have to talk to Rick about her though, let him know he knew Ivy and stuff. He was hell bent on making sure she stayed here with him, refused to even consider letting her go again. 

“Later…” Daryl commented softly. “It’s still early….ya should sleep more. Have Hershel look ya over again.” He continued, watching as Ivy shifted slightly to pull the large poncho towards her form. Without saying anything, she slipped it on and over her thin form. It was several sized too big, but it seemed to help cover flesh Daryl was sure she was trying to hide. “I’m fine.” She insisted to which Daryl snorted dryly. “I’ve known ya too long for you to be pulling that bullshit.” He commented smirking as Ivy stuck her tongue out at him in retaliation. God…was it this easy to fall back into their old nitch? Was Ivy really more relieved than anger at him? Daryl wasn’t sure, but he would take what he could get now. He was not sure how the end of the world had changed Ivy; she probably did not know how it had changed him. Yet, he knew they would survive now, now that they were together. 

“Oi, little brother!” A loud voice practically bellowed down from the stairwell. It must have been getting late; people must have been getting up if Merle was up and howling already. His loud footsteps caused by heavy boots echoed down the walkway in their direction. “In here!” Daryl called loud enough, frowning when Ivy flinched at his loud voice. “What the hell ya doing here? Ain’t that chick suppose ta be healing here? Rick got ya watching her or some-“ Merle practically froze when he pulled back the curtain to the cell, barely two steps past the threshold.   
\--  
Ivy’s head was pounding something awful, but at that moment, it did not matter because she was alive, Daryl was alive, and she was with him. God, if she had meet him months back she probably would have beat the shit out of him in fear that he had forgotten her. She didn’t care about the promises, knowing promises were silly, and no one could keep them. However, she had feared Daryl had died, had abandoned her long before the end of the world. That she would have beat him over, but she only felt so much relief, happiness knowing he was still alive, and here. 

It’s what made the pounding in her head and throbbing of her right ankle tolerable. It was also a relief to hear May and Josh were here to, knowing that May was going to cry so hard and probably yell at her something fierce. Hell, she was fine with waiting for everything else knowing everything seemed all right. Even though she did not want to lie back down, did not want to sleep, favoring the idea of food, shower, and seeing her people, she could not hide her exhaustion. She had just been about to comply with Daryl’s words when a bellowing voice reached her ears. Instantly, she flinched from the mixture of her headache and the echoing the voice did in this place. God, she hated echoes! It made things hard for her to see, tell where things were coming from, and such. 

Yet, it was that voice she was trying to focus on as it came closer and closer. Hearing the ruffle of fabric and the scuff of boots on the concrete, Ivy knew that the person was there in the small cell. Her eyes were narrowed, trying to figure out the voice and who it was. Everything was still so distorted in her mind and the sounds of other people in the large place did not help any. “Fucking Cherry….that you?” The voice sounded and Ivy felt a mixture of annoyance and relief flooded her system.   
“Don’t call me Cherry asshole.” She spoke, but her voice lacked any form of venom or anger. Instead, it had this playful banter as if this was the norm, which at one point in her life it had been. “Fuck…” Merle cursed coming to drop heavily on the bed next to her, pulling her form into a damn bone-crushing hug. “Ah! Fuck! Merle let me go!” She cried out, her voice tinted with pain that instantly had Merle jumping back. “Shit, sorry Cherry.” Ivy hit the man as hard as she could in the arm, knowing it didn’t bother Merle one bit. It was her natural reaction to that stupid nickname he had given her when she was little. Sure, Merle was a hell of a lot older than her and Daryl, but when he had been around, he had been like the big brother she never had. If only he’d stop with that stupid nickname over her hair color. Not that Ivy really knew what her hair color was…being born blind caused you to miss many things. 

“Damn…Can’t believe you’re here….can’t believe Glenn carried ya in here….thought ya was dead.” Merle grumbled as Ivy shifted in order to lay down once more. She kicked Merle lightly with her uninjured foot, her head swimming too much to sit up straight any more. “Daryl told me…”

“Ain’t mad?” Merle questioned with a raised brow. “Yer alive, right? Here and alive and with me now, right?” She questioned, hearing Merle give a soft hum of agreement. “I’m more relieved ya ain’t dead….ain’t gonna go and kill ya after being reunited..” She spoke softly closing her eyes. Merle seemed to understand and Ivy could feel him shift his weight in order to focus on Daryl. “How long she been up? Hershel seen her yet?” His voice was laced with concern, using the same tone he used to use on Daryl. “She just got up.” Daryl grumbled from his spot next to the bed. 

The mattress shifted as Merle stood and there was a sharp ‘thawt’ sound and a grumbled complaint from Daryl. Merle must have hit him upside the head. “Don’t go waitin’ ‘round if she’s up and movin’. Hershel’s gotta check that ankle of her. S’ make sure it ain’t broke and she ain’t got a concession or something.” His voice was sharp, but not truly angry more like scolding. It brought a tired smile to Ivy’s lips to hear the sounds of these siblings again. God, her heart was going to break if it continued to swell with happiness. What on Earth had prompted the world to give her so much luck? Even if it was for only a little bit, she was glad to have that luck.   
“What’s with noise? Won’t help Ivy recover none.” A thick accented voice echoed and the sounds of curtains being ruffled drew Ivy’s attention. Damn, she already hated this place considering she had not even heard Josh coming this way. Normally she could hear the mountain of a man from a mile away. 

“Ivy!” A high-pitched voice called before a heavy weight suddenly collided with her form. “Fuck! May!” Ivy hissed, unable to help the jump as those teenage arms wrapped about her waist, May keeping her hold on her iron tight. “I go get Hershel.” Josh commented the happiness and relief flooding his voice as his heavy steps moved away from the cell. 

“Oi, pipsqueak get the hell offa her. Ya wanna added a broken rib to her list of injuries.” Merle scolded grasping the teenager by the back of her collar damn near plucking her off Ivy. With the weight off her chest, Ivy gasped out a breath her eyes focused on the ceiling. “Ain’t no pipsqueak and put me down!” May hollered.  
“May.” A sharp scolding sound, barely louder than a whisper at this point considering Ivy’s head slipped out of the woman’s mouth. As if struck by a whip, May silenced herself and her eyes focused on the woman she had been traveling with. “Head, hun….voice ain’t helping me.” She commented. A soft gasp escaped May’s lips and she instantly became silent the scent of salt water tainting the air. “Sorry..” She barely whispered and Ivy could hear her feet moving on the floor again. She could feel May leaning over her form, Merle must have let her go, but the brothers were quiet. “A-are you okay? I was so scared.” May spoke, keeping her voice low, but that voice was teary. “Hey….I’m fine.” Ivy soothed as she gently reached out to touch May’s arm. Following the girl’s arm, Ivy’s brows knitted in concentration as she gently touched May’s face. Tracing the features of her face, an image sprung into Ivy’s mind. Ya, that was May all right. Her touch did not last long. She knew she could tolerate touching May and May touching her. Still didn’t like human contact, thought it was disgusting, but May and Josh were proving to be tolerable just like   
Daryl and Merle had years ago. 

Silence fell over the small cell for several long moments, each person giving Ivy a moment to try and calm the headache that pounded behind her eyes. The click of something echoed outside of the cell causing her eyes to closed, brows knitted in concentration. She couldn’t see anything in this place! “Oh my…” A voice spoke softly from the doorway, the same elderly voice that was kind and comforting from last night. This was…Hershel right? “Alright, there’s too many of you in here go on now.” Hershel scolded seeming to tell the three other people in the room to leave. Unable to help herself, Daryl’s name left her lips at the sound of shuffling feet. “It’s okay.” He spoke gently and she could feel the warmth of his hand covering her own. “I ain’t going nowhere.” It eased her heart to know that Daryl was in no rush to leave her either. 

“How are you feeling?” Hershel questioned softly, taking the seat that Daryl had been using. “I’m fine.” Ivy commented softly feeling herself sink slightly into the mattress, not liking how close this man was getting to her. “Her head’s hurting her…ankle’s not good neither. Hurt to put weight on it.” Daryl commented for her and she could not help but kick at him slightly with her good leg. “I see….May I look at your ankle Ivy?” Hershel questioned calmly. “I’m fine.”   
\--  
The sight of the woman and Daryl was a bit of surprise to him once more considering neither looked tense to be together. This seemed to clear the thoughts in his head about Daryl knowing Ivy and Ivy knowing Daryl. Good, it was good to see and warmed his heart to know that some miracles could still happen in this world. Sitting in his chair, he watched the blind woman closely noting the apprehension and anxiety in her tensing form. Something about it reminded Hershel of when he had treated Daryl the first time. Daryl had acted like a feral dog, snapping and snarling at everything he did. He had been distrusting and harsh, unsure of helping hands and knowing less of the kindness, they could hold. He was seeing something similar here by the woman’s posture, but unlike Daryl who acted like a feral dog Ivy seemed more cat like. Sure, she might not be able to see, but Hershel could tell she was ready to do something. Her body was shifting farther from him; slowly inching against the far wall like a cat getting ready to hiss and either bolt or attack. The only thing that seemed to keep her close was Daryl’s hand on hers. 

It was also a familiar response, ‘I’m fine’, and somehow he felt the two were a bit too similar in that aspect. However, Daryl seemed more than willing to give him the information he needed. Therefore, Ivy distrusted strangers like Daryl but was comfortable enough to confine in Daryl. He would have to remember that, though it looked like the archer was not going anywhere anytime soon. At the mention of looking at her ankle, Hershel noted how Ivy seemed to tuck her bad leg under her good pushing it back as if to hide the wound. “It’s alright…I’ll be gentle and quick. I have to feel it for any sort of fracture.” If she was having trouble putting weight on it, it might be worse than sprained. Ivy did not move her blind eyes in his general direction without actually seeing him. “Come on.” Daryl commented in a voice so soft and calm, Hershel was taken aback. That voice had been one he had only ever seen Daryl use on Carl or Judith or Sophia. A comforting strong voice that gave one the sense of trust and reassurance. 

Daryl reached out to grasp Ivy’s other hand, pulling the woman up and away from her spot near the wall. With a bit of shifting, Daryl got a reluctant Ivy to sit up, legs over the edge of the bed. She was leaning heavily into Daryl’s side, her fingers knotting in the fabric of Daryl’s poncho. Her knuckles were beginning to turn white and she was unnaturally rigid and still. “I’ll be quick.” Hershel spoke as he reached down to gently pick up Ivy’s right leg, setting the ankle gently on his thigh to examine.   
Two things caught his attention in that moment that made him worry over the girl. In the brighter light of day, Hershel could see the vast amount of scars on her legs leading from the ankle and up, disappearing beneath the poncho just barley covering her knees. They were sharp little lines, long and winding done by some sort of sharp instrument…a knife? A razor blade? They were placed strangely on her form and Hershel had a feeling Ivy had not been the cause of them. The second thing he noticed was how Ivy shifted when her leg was picked up. She was pulling the end of poncho as far as she could down on her lap and between her legs. Her thighs were pressed tight together all the way down to her knees, putting her leg at a strange angle for Hershel to examine. 

He knew the woman was dressed under that poncho and could not help the concern that flashed over his features at the way she acted. Turning his focus to his work, knowing that her ankle came first before any of the other nagging worries in his head, he gently placed his hands on her shin. Like a bolt of electricity, Ivy jumped so high and so hard, Hershel had to clasp his hand on her firmly to prevent her from hurting her ankle more. “Ivy?” Hershel spoke softly, his voice soft and cooing like how he would talk to his children. Daryl never seemed to like that voice, but it seemed to work well on Ivy for she froze in place to listen to him. “S-sorry….it’s disgusting.” She spit out with venom, her form beginning to tremble sharply. “Disgusting?” Hershel questioned his eyes flickering to Daryl who was returning his frown with a pained expression. 

“Human touch….it’s disgusting…no..no offense to you, sir.” She spoke catching Hershel off guard with that comment and the added sir. The ‘sir’ looked forced, a habit of some type Hershel suspected. Maybe she had always been taught to say ‘sir’ to her elders. “Hershel’s fine…” He commented, not wanting this woman to call him sir made him feel like there was a distance between them. If this woman knew Daryl, Hershel had a feeling she would be around for some time and it would not do them any good to be distant. “So, human touch is disgusting?” Hershel questioned, his hands moving slowly but accurately over Ivy’s ankle. He attempted to distract her with talk as he felt her ankle for breaks. “Ah~” Ivy hissed in pain, her body jerking as if Hershel’s touch was pure fire. “Y-ya…ma-makes my skin crawl.” She hissed out. “You seem alright with Daryl’s touch.” Hershel commented watching the woman’s face closely as he felt about. “H-he’s an exception…w-we’re the same…” 

“The same?” Hershel questioned watching Ivy nod as she tried to hold back her jerks. “Something..d-different…j-just like M-Merle.” Ivy finished to which Hershel really did not understand. “What about Josh and May?” Hershel questioned as he quickly pulled out some bandages and such to wrap Ivy’s ankle. “C-can tolerate them…” She muttered softly and Daryl snorted out a small laugh. “Give her time Hershel…she’ll stop jumping around like a jack rabbit.” Daryl spoke still holding onto the woman, his hands running up and down her arms in hopes of comforting her. Hershel nodded to his words as he lowered Ivy’s leg from his thigh. “Alright…all done.” He commented and did not miss as Ivy practically yanked the limb back to her body, quickly covering her legs with the poncho as she pulled them to her chest. “Seems badly sprained so I would stay off of it as much as possible. Ya can walk on it but it’ll hurt so I wouldn’t walk far or much unless ya wanna do some real damage to it.” 

“I want you to take these pills…they’ll help with your headache and the pain.” Hershel commented holding his hand outstretched, the pills in his open palm. Ivy did not move, did not attempt to search for his hand and she simply refused to take them until Daryl took them and forced them into one of her hands. Her blind eyes were still in Hershel’s direction as she felt the small pills in her hand. “T-thanks.” She whispered before raising them to her mouth to quickly swallow. Learning from that little bit, Hershel handed Daryl the bottle of water he had brought with him. She took the bottle from Daryl and sipped down the liquid quickly to shallow the pills before she practically breathed in the rest for the pure satisfaction of relieving her thirst. “I suggest we get some food in you.” Hershel spoke with a small smile at the woman’s eagerness over the water. If she was this desperate for water and if her thin form told Hershel anything, it was that the woman was in need of a good meal. 

“C-can I…get washed up?” She gasped as she pulled the bottle from her lips, trying to catch her breath. 

Hershel paused taking in her ruffled and dirty appearance before nodding slowly. He saw no harm in her getting washed up, probably would help her recovery more than hurt it. Realizing he had not answered her verbally, noticing her head tilt and her brows drawn close in confusion, he spoke. “Yes…I’ll get Maggie to help ya to the showers.” At the sound of his daughter’s name, Ivy looked uncomfortable but Hershel took it as her dislike and seemingly distrust of strangers. However, Maggie was probably the closest woman to Ivy’s age and he thought Maggie would be the best person to help her. Then again, it might be possible that May would tag along to make sure Ivy was all right. “O-okay.” Ivy seemed to force out, the idea of being clean seeming to outweigh her worry. “She’s my daughter…she’ll take good care of ya….I’ll go fetch her.” Hershel spoke as he reached out for his crutch again and moved to get up once more.   
\--  
Surprisingly, the shower had gone on without much incident. Ivy had been very hesitant when Maggie entered the cell, claiming she would help Ivy to get to the shower and in the shower if she fell or something. Maggie had brought a towel, some shower things from her personal collection, and a change of clothes. She figured Ivy probably had not had a shower or gotten the chance to wash up in a while so Maggie was willing to share. In addition, with the generators working…if only half the time…they got hot or rather warm water to work with. It was a luxury that Maggie was sure Josh and May had enjoyed even with their worry over Ivy. She hoped Ivy would not mind none either. 

Daryl had insisted on helping Ivy down to the showers to Maggie’s surprise. Her daddy had said something about Daryl knowing this woman and between all the commotions that had happened in the cell Ivy was recovering in this morning she could see it too. She was surprised to see Daryl act like this towards someone. Sure, the man was protective of this group and it was clear he was willing to do anything for them. Maggie had seen it back on the farm when Sophia had been lost and separated from the original group. Daryl had looked and looked and looked for the girl before finally bringing her back…sadly the same evening he accidently shot himself with a bolt and had nearly been shot in the head by Andrea. Either way, it showed the man’s loyalty to those he cared about, but this was different. 

The man was a hand’s off kind of person unless he needed to be. Willing to fight and protect what was his, but was stand offish, hard to approach, and quiet. These features had always been there, though they were beginning to fade over time. However, with this Ivy woman it was as if all those parts of Daryl’s character had disappeared. He was very handsy with her, cautious and careful with her like she was going to break on him. Maggie had not been able to help the giggle that left her lips when Ivy had finally snapped at him, pushing him away in favor of the wall to support her form claiming Daryl worried too much. Clearly, these two had known one another a very long time.

Maggie and Ivy had left Daryl at the prison shower room; Rick had spotted them and had called for Daryl. This left only the two women in the large shower room where a stool was pulled up under one of the closest showerheads. “Daddy asked Beth, um my sister, to put a stool down here so you’re not standing on your ankle.” Maggie claimed as she watched Ivy’s blind eyes scan the area of the shower. “This place is loud.” She muttered softly catching Maggie’s attention. “Loud?” 

“Uh..the prison…it echoes….makes everything sound loud and muffled.” She gestured to her ear with her right hand. “Ah…um..do you need any help?” Maggie questioned watching Ivy and wondering if the woman would be alright on her own in herd\e. The brown-haired woman was not planning to be far, just outside the door to give Ivy some sense of privacy. “Ya…I’ll be fine.” Ivy commented remaining there, unwilling to move. When Maggie realized the woman would not move until she left, she nodded firmly before shifting slightly to turn on the showerhead that had the stool under it, giving Ivy some sort of direction to head towards. “Howler if ya need anything.” Her thick accent echoed. “I left ya some clothes and a towel on this bench.” She claimed rasping her fingers on the wood, watching Ivy’s face turn in her direction. “Left the soap and stuff near the stool for you.” With that, Ivy was left with the echoing sound of Maggie’s footsteps and the sounds of a metal door creaking open and closing partially. 

It had taken Ivy nearly an hour to shower, stripping and then taking her time following the wall until she found the showerhead that was sprouting water. Finding the knob on the wall, she adjusted the temperature before laughing at the feel of warm water. God, she missed warm and hot showers and while this was not nearly enough, it was enough for now. Reaching out, she hobbled uneasily on her feet until her fingers collided with the wood of a knee-high stool. Nearly stumbling over it,   
Ivy quickly righted herself and sat down with her back to the stream of water. When she sat, the sound of plastic tumbling against the tilt caught her attention.   
Shifting awkwardly, Ivy felt around before picking up one of two bottles Maggie had left her. Popping the cap, Ivy inhaled softly and another smile rose to her lips. 

“How did she find soap that smells like strawberries?” She questioned to herself as she squeezed a small amount into her hand, feeling the texture. Once she was sure it was soap, Ivy reached down for the washcloth left with the other bottle on the floor. She was quick to scrub her body roughly, turning her pale skin slightly pink before doing the same to her hair making sure to get anything and everything out! 

She allowed the soap to drip off her body before she reached for the other plastic bottle curiously. Doing the same as the soap, Ivy found this stuff was berry scented and the texture was different. “Fuck….conditioner really?” Ivy stated brightly with laughter, feeling as if she was stealing someone’s luxuries. Blushing softly at the kindness Maggie had shown her by allowing her to use these things, Ivy finished washing her hair. She would have to return Maggie’s kindness somehow; Ivy did not really like getting something without giving. Repeating the same actions as she did to get in the shower, Ivy found the wall again and turned off the water. Following the wall, Ivy eventually met with the bench Maggie had spoken about. Toweling down quickly, Ivy slipped into the clothes Maggie left for her. They seemed to fit better than what she had been wearing but she could tell it was still not her own clothing. It was a simple fluffy sweater and a pair of slightly loose jeans. Once her socks were on, Hershel and Maggie having dismissed the idea of her wandering around with her boots and a bad ankle, she gathered the old clothes in one arm. “Maggie?” She called out as she followed the wall back towards the door she had heard earlier. Almost instantly, Maggie was in the door’s opening and smiling. “All done? How ya feeling?” She questioned, sounding happy and seriously curious. 

Ivy was a bit taken back, but a smile found its way to her face either way. “Good….better..” 

“Good…let’s get ya to the cafeteria then and get some food in you. It’s about lunch time.” Maggie explained softly leading the way back to the main area of the prison with slow and careful steps. She did not want to seem like she was dotting, but she did not want to get too far ahead of Ivy with that bad ankle. 

Glancing back, Maggie could see the sweat beginning to linger on the woman’s forehead her footsteps small and shaky. She was leaning more on the wall than before and Maggie could not help but frown softly. “Why don’t we take a break?” She offered, knowing it was not much farther until the cafeteria but with the way Ivy was looking, Maggie was worrying over the damage she could be doing to it. 

“Aren’t we close?” Ivy questioned uncertainly, feeling like it had taken them less time when they came down here. “Ya, but…you look..tired.” Maggie commented watching as Ivy shifted to press her back against the wall in order to push herself off the wall. “I said I’m fine. I’ve had worse.” She commented as she stepped away from the wall. Leaving her full weight on her ankle, it was no surprise when the swollen ankle gave out causing Ivy to fall back on her ass in the hall. “Shit..” She hissed softly to herself as Maggie quickly rushed to her side. “Ya okay?” She spoke worriedly as she touched Ivy’s arm hoping to comfort. What Maggie had not exactly was the look of disgust and the sharp flinch, but that did not stop Maggie nor her hold. 

“Hey! I need a hand down here!” Maggie yelled down the hall as loud as she could as Ivy pulled on the limb that Maggie held. “It’s okay, it’s okay I’m fine I’m fine.” Ivy stated sounding a bit panicky over anyone coming down this way. She had had worse injuries than this, she was fine, and she could take it. At the sound of heavy footfalls rushing their way, Ivy felt her stomach flip-flop at the possibility of meeting another person. God, she was getting tired of meeting strangers today. She could not handle it! “What the hell happened here?” Merle’s voice bellowed above her and Ivy could not help the sigh that escaped her lips. “I’m fine Merle.” Ivy commented getting a scoff from the bigger male. 

“Stop the brave act Cherry. Ya know I know yer faking it. The tears in yer eyes say enough about the pain your ass is in. What happened to the crybaby, huh Cherry?” Merle questioned. One of the things that Merle had learned watching Daryl and Ivy over the years was that Daryl reacted violently to others when pushed and Ivy cried. The girl had always been overly shy, quiet, but sweet and anytime she had been hurt she had cried easily. Daryl was stand offish, snapped at people if pushed, always keeping his defenses up. Merle had to wonder when Ivy started denying everything when she used to always be so honest about her pains and aches. 

A flush of color came to Ivy’s cheeks at Merle’s comment causing the older man to huff a small laugh. “Alright, alright…we’re was ya going?” Merle questioned and Ivy   
felt him shuffle closer to her, his form leaning over her’s as he knelt down on the ground. “Cafeteria, daddy wants her ta eat before she rests again.” 

Feeling one large arm wrap around her shoulders, big hand clasping down, and the other limb under her knees, Ivy yelped as Merle swiftly picked her up. “Damn, ya ain’t ever been this light before.” He cursed as Ivy wiggled in his grasp. “Hey, stop that.” Merle growled out in a scolding tone that instantly caused Ivy’s movements to stop. Really, this was all to0 familiar and embarrassing at the same time for Ivy. Her cheeks felt flush and hot as Merle started to walk, but she knew she could not argue with him. Not when something like this had happened when she was ten and Merle had scolded her so badly for being stupid. It was the first time she had witnessed Daryl’s older brother’s kindness to her and it was not long after that that she began to see Merle as just that…an older brother. 

Lacing her arms around his neck, fearful of being dropped, but trusting Merle enough not to, Ivy sighed heavily. “That’s better.” Merle commented as he entered the cafeteria with Maggie close at his heels. “What happened!” Carol’s voice carried over to them, Ivy vaguely recognizing it as Merle carried her and set her down in a chair at one of the tables. “Woman’s being stubborn.” Merle stated as he dusted off his hands before shifting to grab a seat himself. Ivy suddenly felt nervous as she wrapped her arms around her waist, her ears straining to determine where she was now and how many people were around her. God, her dark world could be downright terrifying at times. Sure, she could hear Merle, knew he was around. That made her feel a bit better, but part of her wished she was alone or that Daryl was there. Where was Daryl? 

“Ivy!” A familiar voice echoed to her left, her head tilting in that direction as quick footsteps headed towards her. There were the sounds of other footfalls, but Ivy could not be sure as to whom they belonged to. “May?” Ivy questioned hesitantly, hearing the teenager’s hum of agreement. “Ya…how are you?” She questioned sounding worried and Ivy could not help but roll her eyes with a small smile. “I’m fine.” She insisted listening as May’s hum turned a bit disapproving. “Alright I’m sore.” She hissed softly, seeming to give May the correct answer or something. “Figured….but you’ll get better. You always do.” She commented. Ivy heard shuffling behind May and raised a brow at the girl expectantly. “Oh! This is Carl and Sophia.” May commented, knowing Ivy could not see the two other teens behind her. “Um Carl is Rick’s son….Rick is the leader person…and Sophia is Carol’s daughter.” She provided the information to which Ivy couldn’t do much more than nod. “Um….having fun then?” She questioned, worried for the teenager. She did not like being away from May but the last several hours it had been impossible to be near her. Ivy had to trust that Josh was keeping an eye on her. “Ya, it’s…kinda of nice to have someone my age around.” She spoke, her voice dropping low for Ivy to hear only. 

“Um…I’m gonna sit with Sophia and Carl at dinner…is that okay?” May questioned catching Ivy off guard. “u-um…ya…sure..” She commented, unsure how she was supposed to answer to that. It seemed she gave May a good answer for the girl giggled brightly before giving her a quick goodbye hug and heading off with the teens. “What a weird day..” Ivy whispered softly before her head snapped to the right at the sound of a chair moving across the floor towards her. “Glad to see you’re up and moving some.” Carol’s familiar voice reached her and Ivy sighed softly. “Glad to see you’re alright too.” She commented back.

Carol knew already not to touch Ivy, but she still wished to check on the woman. “Sophia seems to have taken a shine to your girl…well..I mean…I know May isn’t your-“ 

“It’s okay.” Ivy stopped Carol from saying anything more. “Ya, I guess…its nice that she has someone her own age here…been a while since she’s been around other kids.” Carol nodded at Ivy’s response. “Well, supper is almost ready. Bet you’re hungry?” Carol questioned watching as Ivy’s blind eyes flickered around, her head tilting to take in various sounds.

“Ya…food sounds good.” She finally replied before she looked down, her fingers playing with the hem of the sweater she wore. “Umm…w-where’s Daryl?” She questioned softly, timid to speak too loudly in this place. “He’s with Rick.” Carol spoke. “Probably going over everything that’s happened…..Rick offered a place for you and Josh and May…well as long as the council agrees to it.” 

“C-council?” Ivy spoke sounding fearful, not sure if she liked the idea of a council or anything like that deciding if she was going to be able to stay with Daryl or not. “Hey, hey…relax.” Carol spoke softly, reaching out a hand, but pausing thinking better of it. “We just want to make sure you and your are not a threat…though it really does not look that way.” Carol assured her, though she was not sure how much that helped Ivy out. “Let me…get some food up for you….everyone else should be coming along soon.” Carol spoke, as she got up, caring enough to leave Ivy some space.

“E-everyone else?” Ivy questioned her voice small and meek, the urge to disappear tugging at her form though with Merle around she doubted she would get far. Her mind busily thought over everything, trying to take everything in as her fingers busied themselves with the hem of her sweater. Soft footsteps and a soft cry caused Ivy to practically seize, her head snapping up to look for the noise. “Oh, sorry.” A soft, sweet, and thickly southern accent echoed to her left. “Judith can get fussy suddenly.” The owner of that voice, a girl Ivy was sure of, spoke. “You….you guys have a baby?” Ivy questioned sounding both astonished and horrified at the same time. How could an infant survive n this world!? However, it was some sort of good sign considering a group that still had and cared for a baby must have done a lot to keep her live. Maybe these people were good people? “Ya…she’s only a few months old….wanna hold her?” The girl questioned brightly. “Beth, leave Ivy alone.” Maggie’s voice echoed somewhere to Ivy’s right where Carol had disappeared. If Ivy had to guess, Maggie was helping Carol with dinner. 

Sitting around here made Ivy feel useless, but there was not much she could do on her ankle. “Sorry.” Beth spoke softly, her voice soft and overly kind. “I-its okay…” Ivy spoke feeling a small smile forming upon her lips. As the words left her lips, she heard Beth’s hesitant footsteps walk away from her. Before long, more footsteps echoed in the cafeteria and Ivy could not help but hold the side of her head at the combination of echoes, voices, and movements caused another headache to rise. “Ivy.” A thick accent spoke above her causing her to look up and a small smile to come her lips. “Hi, Josh.” 

“How holding up? Look like pain?” He spoke sitting down in a chair to her left. “Ya. Just another headache.” Ivy commented softly as Josh hummed. “Busy day..need rest after food. Had me worried. Can’t stand my girl hurt.” He spoke with a fatherly tone as he gently patted Ivy’s shoulder. “Recovery fast. If this be new home, must help out.” He spoke with his broken English, the concern still in his voice. “I’ll try..” Ivy spoke as she slumped in her seat slightly. “W-what do you think? Of this group?” Ivy questioned softly, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Think they good people….Rick…leader…he has good head on shoulders, good heart. May like it here.”   
Ivy nodded to Josh’s words; it was good that her travel companions like it here so far. Ivy was not sure if she could stand being away from Daryl if they didn’t want to be here. Speaking of the archer, Ivy damn near jumped out of her chair at the gently hands that touch her shoulders steeling her in place. “Hey, hey…relax…just me.” Daryl spoke softly as he moved to sit in the chair to her right. “You okay?” Daryl’s voice was quiet, soft, but laced with concern. “Just…tired..” Ivy commented honestly to which Daryl nodded. “Wanna eat in the cell?” He questioned after a moment to which Ivy sighed heavily before nodding. “It’s…it’s too loud here.” She commented, still nowhere near use to all the movements and the echoes. “Alright…let’s go then.” The man stood again and reached his arms out to the woman. Feeling around, Ivy quickly found Daryl’s arm and with his help, she stood up on shaky legs. 

“Be careful with my girl.” Josh scolded Daryl firmly but did not move to stop the archer. 

Luckily resting had been enough for her not to fall on her ass, but she clung close to Daryl as he began to steer her away from the cafeteria, the rest of his group appearing in order to eat. “Want me to carry you?” Daryl whispered low in her ear watching in amusement as Ivy quickly shook her head. “Already had one Dixon embarrassment with that today, don’t need two.” She spoke playfully as she limped with Daryl back into the cell from the night before. Once settled on the bed, Daryl disappeared for roughly five minutes before coming back with two steaming bowls of rabbit stew and two bottles of water tucked under his left arm. 

Ivy’s back was pressed against the wall, her feet out stretched before her. She was suddenly very tired, her body still sore. “Hey..” Daryl spoke softly moving to sit beside the woman on the bed. He gently placed the warm bowl against her thigh, giving her a sign of where her food was. Once she took the bowl from him, he situated the bottles of water between them before digging in to his supper. From the corner of his eye, he watched as Ivy moved her spoon around the stew before bringing it up to taste. A smile came to her lips as she began to eat eagerly. “Don’t look like you’ve been eating much.” Daryl stated, his mouth full but not really caring for manners. “Have I ever eaten a lot?” Ivy commented back, to which Daryl shrugged softly. “Seems like ya haven’t eaten at all..” 

“I try to make sure May stays fed.” Ivy commented to which Daryl hummed once more. “Ya gotta eat too.” He scolded faking a small groan as Ivy pushed his shoulder hard. “I eat.” She commented softly as she took another bite of her food, savoring the taste of warmth. “That girl’s attached ta ya….heard her chatting with Carl and Sophia…talked about ya a lot.” Daryl spoke with a smirk on his face and in his voice. “Like a little parasite.” Ivy commented, though her words were friendly and somehow fond over how the teenager acted. Daryl quietly took note of that but said nothing more. “What happened out there? With Carol?” He commented, knowing that Carol had spoken to Rick about what happened. However, he wanted to hear what Ivy said. Maybe it was not good to be comparing the stories, but he had to make sure, so Ivy and her companions could stay.

“Ran from some walkers.” Ivy commented sucking the juices off her spoon before scooping up more. “Carol…” The woman paused with a dry chuckle. “Didn’t see the   
walker on the ground…but I felt it…damn near tripped over it. It grabbed Carol’s ankle, made the poor woman fall over but I got to it before it got its jaws on her. Damn thing was buried in mud or something and the ground gave way. Tumbled down a damn hill with that thing…hit my head on something.” Ivy spoke with a gesture towards the wound on her head with her spoon. “Carol came down and even though I was bleeding we got outta the mud and kept going…don’t think Carol knows ya can’t just grab a blind person and run.” There was a hint of humor in Ivy’s voice as she shook her head. Pausing, she balanced the bowl of stew on her lap in favor of one of the water bottles against her thigh. Taking a sip, she finished speaking. “She grabbed my arm pulled me hard…hear this snapping next to me…she must have seen a walker or something and got me away….stepped in a damn divvy and fell on my ass.” 

“Stupidest ways ta get hurt I swear.” Ivy muttered as she closed the water bottle and returned to her stew. Daryl nodded taking in what she said and finding it pretty much matched with what Carol had told Rick. “Ya always were a klutz.” He commented laughing softly as Ivy shot him a glare that did not really have any full affect considering her gaze was nowhere near his. “Stupid..” She hissed as she finished her food. Once her bowl was empty, Daryl was quick to take it and pour half of his into hers before handing it back. Seeing the look of argue, Daryl was quick to shush her before finishing the rest of his supper. She sighed disbelieving, muttering again how stupid he was but ate the rest either way. 

After eating and finishing the bottles of water, Daryl picked the trash up claiming he would return shortly. However, upon returning to that cell, Daryl could not help the smile at the sight of Ivy sleeping curled up on her side against the wall. The day had been rough and long and Daryl was not surprised she had fallen asleep once more. Picking up the discarded blanket at the end of the bed, he gentle covered her form, ran a hand through her hair, before sitting with her once more on the floor. He stayed there for a long time, not willing to leave her until the curtain to the cell fluttered open.

The small teenager jumped slightly at the sight of Daryl on the floor, but May did not say a word. She was clearly dressed for bed, but had not gone to bed just yet. Daryl was sure that most people were going down about now or staying up to chat in the common area. “What?” Daryl asked gruffly, his blue eyes taking in the tanned skin girl. Her short black locks were pulled back by a bandana and her green eyes flickered from Daryl to Ivy and back again. “I….Um…I don’t…want to be away from her tonight.” She spoke catching Daryl by surprise. There was a look in May’s eyes that screamed she was terrified and lonely and he found this girl interesting. He was still confused as to what sort of relationship May and Ivy had, but it was clear the girl was attached and the look in May’s eyes reminded him of Carl when he worried over Lori. “Alright, better close that curtain for the light wakes her.” Daryl muttered, watching as May shifted into the cell nervously. 

Hesitating for a moment, May wandered around Daryl before coming to the bed Ivy rested on. Daryl was suddenly tense and surprised as the teenager laid down in front of Ivy, snuggled close with barely ten inches of space between them. Reaching out, May gently touched Ivy’s hand and almost as if on instinct, Ivy’s arm wrapped about May’s waist and pulled her close. “Nightmare?” Ivy tiredly muttered, barely even awake. “Don’t wanna sleep alone.” May commented as Ivy nuzzled the child’s hair. “So ya decide to sleep with me, eh? …..Don’t worry….Mama’s got ya.” Ivy whispered warmly, lovingly, seeming to be completely unaware of what she was saying as she went quiet again and her body relaxed into sleep. A smile was forming on May’s lips as she cuddled under Ivy’s chin and Daryl was left with the image of motherly Ivy and a child still new to this world. “Mama huh?” Daryl questioned watching as May tensed slightly before shrugging gently, trying not to rouse Ivy again.  
“Only time she says it is in her sleep…I think she wants to be a mama someday…I like to think of her as my mother….better than my own mother ever was.” May’s voice as a bare whisper and Daryl could not help the strange mixture of emotions that bubbled in his chest. Clearly, these two had found a bond in this new world that Daryl had not expected. He had never thought of Ivy wanting children or even caring for children, but it made sense considering her personality. Ivy always did like taking in strays, allowing them into her life without a second’s thought, and caring for them with all her might. It had been the same quality Daryl had seen in Ivy’s Nana and it warmed his heart some. At least Ivy had not been alone in this new world without him. A strange desire to protect May as much as Ivy also bloomed in his chest, knowing the girl was clearly important to his childhood friend. Anyone important to him or Ivy was worth protecting and it was with that thought Daryl allowed the silence to envelope the room, watching the woman and teenager sleep silently on the flat mattress of the prison cell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goodness this was a long chapter to write! Phew~  
> Hope everyone is liking it so far!  
> Thanks again for all the hits, kudos, and such your support is really helping me out with this <3


	7. Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. This chapter is a bit shorter than my others and I apologize for that.

Life for the most part had settled after that first day in the prison almost three weeks ago. During that time, two things had become established that drew the group’s attention. One was the approaching winter and with it the desire to gather and store as much supplies as physically possible. Sure, they were farther south than others and had the possibility for a mild winter, but without newscasts or weathermen it was damn near impossible to tell how cold it would get or how much snow they might get. The group had collectively decided that it was better to be over prepared for their first winter in the prison than under. This resulted in a rather large list of possible supplies one could gather on runs. It included basic things such as blankets, clothes, coats, gloves, and more. It included survival items such as food, water, fire pits, and materials to insulate the prison windows and doors. Harder to find items like medicine, which were always on the list, took top priority. No one wanted to catch a chill and risk illness. The basic cold could be a death sentence in this world. There was no chance that they would be able to find everything, but they would gather what they could. 

This led to more runs than they had been doing as work on the small garden seemed to double in hopes of some sort of crop before the first frost. The other point was that the group had agreed upon the acceptance of their three newest members. After the first day of Ivy being awake, Daryl had been forced to explain to Rick how he knew the woman. Well, not forced, but he knew if he kept quiet about this Ivy may not be allowed to stay. While Daryl was on the council, a decision Rick had made, he usually only commented or gave his opinion when needed. He did not speak much, preferring to listen and have silent conversations with Rick. While Rick was playing farmer, it was still an unspoken rule that the man was still their leader. The council seemed to be set up more to help take the burden off Rick’s shoulders than to actually lead the group. The council was small, consisting of Rick, Hershel, Glenn, Maggie, and Daryl. It had been the first time Daryl had voiced his desire to the council, catching everyone’s attention and curiosity as to why he so strongly supported Ivy and hers to join their group. While attempting not to go into too much detail over their childhood, Daryl had to explain to them that he and Ivy grew up together. He was not sure how much weight his words had, but between his words and the new comer’s actions, it was easily decided that the three would stay in the prison.

It had become all too clear within the first few days to the first week of their stay that the three would be good for the group. There were no signs that they were violent people or a threat against the prison and the people already established there. Not that Daryl thought Ivy would be a threat to begin with. If anything, the three were more helpful than anything, extra hands and all. Daryl had always been an observant person and he knew that Rick was just as observant as he was, so what Daryl saw he was almost certain Rick saw too. The three were a family, just as Daryl and the rest of the prison were some make shift family created by the pressures of this new world. 

Daryl could not help but observe Ivy’s group and their interactions with each other and then with the rest of the prison. The large man, Josh clearly thought of May and Ivy the same way Hershel thought of Beth and Maggie or Rick thought of Carl and Judith. The man’s eyes seemed to shine with pride at the sight of the teenager and the woman. It was not difficult to see his care in his actions. At night, he would tell stories to May before bed, sometimes read her a book to help her sleep. He would sneak some of his own food onto Ivy’s plate before giving it to the woman, making sure the blind woman ate enough knowing she usually did not. He would help the blind woman around as she began to learn about her new surroundings on a bad ankle. With the rest of the prison, Josh was friendly and overly kind. He lent a hand in just about every task he could think of. He helped clear the fences, began to take watches in the guard tower, helped take stock of their supplies, and even suggested to Rick that he might be able to get the generators of the prison fully working. Josh was good with his hands, having done construction or something before everything went to hell. He had been the one to suggest insulating the windows and doors of the prison, saying it would be easy to find material and it would keep the cold out. It was not long before he and Tyresse were working on various projects to improve life here at the prison. Daryl was beginning to wonder if they were getting past the point of surviving and getting to the point of living, establishing their lives here. 

Then there was May, the young and rather vocal teenager as Daryl had learned. Damn girl had been snippy at his first meeting, but had seemed shy and fearful. She had reminded him of Sophia, but that did not last long. After about a week or so, once she knew Ivy was fine, the girl’s true colors came forth. May was a strong, strong child and very vocal. If she did not like something she stated it and Daryl was beginning to find it routine when May and Merle would bicker back and forth while doing chores. At first, Daryl thought the banter was in anger with Merle’s constant teasing, but it became all too clear that the banter was done more out of fun. Merle seemed to find May’s comebacks and snappy replies to his teasing humorous and May seemed to find Merle’s teasing a challenge to overcome. In a sense, it seemed like May was trying to prove herself to the older man. It was funny really, Daryl had never seen his brother interact with a child in such a way and it made him think back to when they were growing up, wondering if that was how he and Merle had once been. May interacted pretty much the same with everyone else in the prison. She did chores with the other teens, Beth, Carl, and Sophia. She helped clean, helped Carol with laundry, helped Carol and Maggie cook, even helped on the fences, and it seemed the teen took it all in stride. Sure, like all kids her age, she complained to all hell and back, but she did what she was told without much fuss. This was especially true if Ivy told her something. May really did look to Ivy for guidance in any sense, absorbing the older woman’s words like a sponge. If Ivy said something, May always listened whether it was on something small like manners or on something more complex like hunting or surviving. 

Ivy was a bit of a different story when it came to her place in the prison. After about a week, the woman was allowed full mobility in the prison. Her head had healed for the most part and while her ankle was sore, she could walk on it with only the smallest hints of a limp. She had spent those first few days out of bed with Daryl, Josh, or May, sticking close to one of these people at all time. Due to her injuries, Rick had restricted her ability to assist in the prison not wanting her to strain her body more than it already was. This forced Ivy to get use to doing smaller chores. At first, she did these by herself. She did little things like patching up clothing, having known how to sew since she was eight, laundry, and any other chore that kept her off her feet. 

After two days, these activities began to include Carol and Maggie. When Daryl had first seen the three women folding laundry, he was not surprised by the uncomfortable silence and tension that seemed to hang in the air. Ivy looked uncomfortable sitting there, folding Judith’s clothes while Maggie and Carol attempted small talk. Given another two days or so, however, Daryl had spotted the same three women talking quietly while preparing for dinner. Ivy had a small smile upon her face while Maggie and Carol kept an arm’s length away, she seemed comfortable. Maybe it was Maggie and Carol’s gentle nature? Maybe it was because they understood that Ivy needed space to get to know someone? Either way, the women seemed to be accepting of Ivy with the intent of keeping her comfortable by keeping a certain distance. 

The only person within the group Ivy seemed to get very close to, well besides Daryl, was Hershel. Daryl wondered if his friend felt the same way for Hershel as she had her Nana growing up. Ivy’s Nana, Martha, had been the one that really raised Ivy and had been the only person in her family to care for her. The seventy-five year old woman, as Daryl remembered her when he first met her, was strong willed but quiet. She had a way about herself, pride, with shoulders back and her chin held high as if to defy the world. It was something she passed to Ivy, something Daryl enjoyed seeing in his childhood friend. Though it tended to hide the fear and disgust, she had for the world. Martha had been sweet, soft spoke, supportive, and gentle with Ivy. In a way, Hershel seemed to act similar to Martha. Hershel was a kind man, supportive of life, and gentle but firm to those around him. Despite his rough first impression of Hershel, Daryl had come to recognize the man as a support system just as Ivy seemed to be doing. Hershel always had a vast knowledge of the world that Ivy seemed to feed on, something Daryl remembered specifically about her growing up. Ivy loved learning things and Daryl could remember long winters spent in a warm corner of the library in their hometown. Therefore, it was no surprise one morning to find the two sitting at a table in the cafeteria going over some basic first aid. Sure, Ivy could not see the medications or supplies Hershel spoke about, but she could feel them, memories their names and uses. She could become useful, it was clear she desired to be useful. 

That was the extent of Ivy’s interactions with people however and those interactions were short lasting no more than a half hour or so. Most other times the woman was found by herself .She had taken up a strange late night activity, just after everyone had gone to bed. Daryl had caught her the first time easily enough and now he would join her when possible. Ivy was painfully uncomfortable in the prison, her surroundings new and loud in her head. Outside of the prison walls was really the only place she could relax, focus, and see the world. Therefore, when the place was finally quiet at night, she had begun to walk the prison using her hands as a guide as they touched over various surfaces from tables to walls. She wanted to memorize the layout of the prison. She wanted to know where things were, how things were placed, so she could move around without help or with the constant glances of pity or worry. Since she had been on her feet, it had been May’s job to escort the woman around for her various chores. It was an unspoken job, one no one had pointed out, but one that seemed necessary. May had taken the job without asking, without needing to be told, worried for Ivy, and knowing the woman was bad in buildings. Ivy was clearly getting sick of the help, of tripping over her feet in the prison, bumping into objects and people because she had not known they were there, and the constant need for people to grab her before something happened. That was the worse for the blind woman. It had been fine if Josh or May or Daryl came up, gently took her elbow to stop her from bumping into someone or something, but she could not stand the others touching her. 

The first time it had happened had brought a shock to his group. Ivy had been wandering the small laundry room with an arm full of clothes. Her footsteps had been slow, carefully placed, trying to figure out where to go to get to a small table to fold the clothes. According to Beth, the woman had set the clothes down but she had hit her hip on the table. There was an old fashion iron, they had found sometime back, sitting on the table and the bump had caused it to fall. Beth had been on laundry duty that day with Ivy and had reacted quickly. She grasped the woman’s arm and pulled her arm hard before the iron crashed to the floor, barely avoiding Ivy’s injured ankle. Beth had let out a sigh of relief, but it was short lived as Ivy practically ripped herself from Beth’s grip. She had turned so fast that the redhead tripped over the iron on the floor, landing hard on her ass. She had been trembling something awful, yelling at Beth not to touch her, to stay away when Daryl came onto the scene. It had taken a while to get Ivy to settle down again. When she had finally relaxed, Daryl had recognized the utter guilt that painted her features. She had apologized to Beth later that day, which the blonde teen forgave her easily enough seeming to understand, and had been refusing to get close to the blonde girl since. 

Ivy was also not someone to show off her limitations, having instantly shot down the idea of a cane and only holding her hands out to touch surfaces and such when she was alone. She would only show her limitation when she was alone or with Daryl on their nightly walks around the prison. These were quiet times, neither speaking, and Daryl watching Ivy’s thin hand and fingertips brush against the rough concrete walls of the prison. She would usually make about three passes and would only talk after the first pass. “Are you sure Beth doesn’t hate me?” She finally whispered softly, unable to forget about the incident from about two weeks ago.  
“Told ya she’s fine. Forgave ya didn’t she.” Daryl commented softly, he was walking slowly next to the redhead. Gave her space, would steer her if need be, move things out of her way, and such. “Ya, but….I’m sure your group doesn’t appreciate my actions.” 

“I think they understand. Remember, I flinch when people touch me. They get it. Don’t flinch much no more, but they get it. They get you don’t like ta be touched.” Daryl spoke softly, not wanting to wake anyone up. They were near the main doors of the prison, the ones that lead out to the yards and the watchtower. “I’m trying…” Ivy whispered as her hands felt over the cool metal, easily finding the handle, a small smile tugged at her lips as she turned her gaze in Daryl’s direction. Woman was not dressed for the chill in the night air, not by a long shot. Walking around in cotton night pants that were a bit too big, a long sleeve shirt that was not too thick, and she had refused to put her boots on. “I know ya’s trying…” 

“I’m tired of being useless…” She spoke as she opened the door, ignoring the glare she knew Daryl was sending her way. The corners of her lips were curled upwards in a knowing smirk before she slipped out of the smallest of openings. Daryl was quick to follow her, had a feeling she needed the air and open space, but did not like the fact she was under dressed. He stepped up beside her, his eyes flickering to the guard tower. He could barely make out Sasha in the tower, gazing at them through the scope of her sniper before turning her attention back to the woods. 

Standing next to Ivy, Daryl watched as the redhead took in several deep breaths, her toes curling in the bit of dirt she stood in. Her thin arms were wrapped about her form and a true smile was gracing her lips. “Ya ain’t useless.” Daryl finally muttered, getting a huff out of the woman beside him. “Yer friend Rick ain’t going to let me take watches…ain’t no way Josh’ll let me go on runs…” She ran a hand through her hair, pushing those bangs back only to have them flutter before her face again, hiding her eyes. “Not sure what I can do Daryl….ankle’s still messed up…can’t hunt or track or trap…not sure yer friends’ll let me do that neither…I’s tired of laundry, barely helping with the cookin, and I can only do so much sewin.” She complained before shifting to sit down on the ground, ignoring the chill that made her shiver. “Can’t stand people touchin me…can’t work in a group…nothing but a burden…I want ta be useful…for once I want ta actually get use to a group of people…I want ta stay with you…this is your group and I don’t want to disappoint.” Somehow, Ivy trusted Daryl’s instincts when it came to the people in his group. It was a lot for her to try to be remotely social, but she wanted to try. She wanted to stay with Daryl, wanted to make sure she never ever lost him again. If that meant she needed to be useful and she needed to work well with others, she was willing to attempt it. 

Daryl frowned, his squinted eyes narrowing on the woman that sat on the ground. He chewed on his thumb for a moment, lost in thought, allowing the quiet to absorb them for the moment. The night was nice and he could tell it was helping Ivy out some. That was something they always shared, the outdoors. It always proved to make them both feel better. After a few moments, he shifted his weight, moved to stand in front of the woman. Without saying anything, he sat down in front of her and reached his hands out. Even if Ivy did not jump when he touched her, he had to smirk at the cute way her nose scrunched up and her eyes closed when his hands got close to her face. As soon as he held her face in his hands, those milky hues would flicker open again and her features would relax. Shifting his hands, Daryl pushed the woman’s bangs back, tucking them behind her ears. “Damn…still got them piercings. “He muttered gently tugging at a small silver, star shaped earring in her left ear. “That the one Nana gave ya?” He questioned, watching Ivy’s lips curl into another smile, leaning her face into his hands softly. “Course…lucky they’re real. Means I can keep the in always.” 

“Ya ain’t useless.” Daryl suddenly commented catching the woman off guard. “Ya never been useless…” He continued his voice soft and quiet. Somehow, Ivy was the only person he had no problems talking with. Could talk to her for hours when they were growing up, could be completely open and honest with her. Only other person like that was Rick and even he did not know half of the shit Ivy did. “I’m useless here Daryl.” She countered softly, her voice soft and barely louder than a whisper. “No ya ain’t.” He growled out scolding her, made her eyes flicker up at him.

“There’s plenty you can do…will do…just gotta give yourself time.” He muttered, continuing to brush her bangs from her face. “Once yer better…ya can go hunting with Merle n’ me. Put what I taught ya to use. Show ‘em how to really cook.” Daryl chuckled lightly, remembering how much better Ivy seemed to be able to cook possum compared to him. She was shit with cooking deer and squirrel though, always turned that meat into jerky. “I ain’t eating possum if I don’t have ta.” Ivy muttered after a moment, a teasing tone in her voice. “Rather have squirrel…can’t catch those fuckers though.” She laughed softly and caused Daryl to smile again. 

“That’s because you use that stupid hunter’s bow. Ain’t fast enough for them.” 

“Well sorry for getting the shit kicked outta me for using a crossbow.” Ivy’s laughter echoed around him. He remembered the day he had tried to teach Ivy how to use his crossbow. Damn recoil had sent her flying on her ass every damn time. She just could not get the hang of it, was better with a hand bow and the old hunting rifle Merle taught her how to shoot. “That kid…May..” Daryl commented, not minding the changing topics. He did not want her mind staying on dark topics. They use to be very good at this. They both knew how to talk to the other and steer the conversation to better places. “She says you taught her that stupid hand bow.”

“Ain’t stupid….and besides I had to teach her something. Josh can’t hunt for shit, runs around the woods like a giant…well he is a giant. No way can he keep quiet. May’s not bad at it though… Bagged her first deer the day we met Carol.” Ivy commented sounding rather fond of the little memory and it caused Daryl to relax as he lowered his hands. Gently clasping Ivy’s hands, which sat in her lap, he felt over the smooth skin of her knuckles. The digits were cold to the touch. “Remember when ya bagged your first kill…ya balled for hours.” 

“I shot a fucking cat Daryl!” Ivy exclaimed with a deep-rooted pout upon her lips. “Well you was being impatient. I was about to tell ya it was a cat but you took the shot before I could get the words out.” Daryl countered.

“Still was your fault…” She grumbled, but her voice held neither anger nor regret. She had felt all that a long time ago and had gotten over it a long time ago. Now it was a stupid story, a fond memory, and the number one reason she avoided pets. “Ya, ya…it’s my fault.” Daryl muttered, he always gave in when it came to that particular memory. Blue eyes watched closely as a particularly harsh shiver raced through Ivy’s body, making her body tremble. He could tell she was cold, could feel it in her hands. Giving those hands a gentle squeeze, Daryl leaned forward, and rested his forehead against Ivy’s. A smirk came to his lips at the scrunched nose and closed eyes before he pressed his lips gently to her forehead. “Ya ain’t useless…” He muttered once more before he shifted to stand, pulling Ivy up with him.  
“If you get yourself sick then ya will be though.” He chuckled as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her back into the prison and towards the cell she had set up between Josh and May. “Still treating me like a kid.” She muttered softly, leaning into Daryl for warmth as they walked. “Well, yer younger than me after all.” 

Ivy paused at his words and smirked. “That’s right…you’re the old fart.” 

A sharp yelp escaped Ivy’s lips, which quickly erupted into a fit of giggles as Daryl propped his finger hard against her ribs, right against a well-known ticklish spot. Pushing Daryl away, the redhead pushed his shoulder hard, but was all smiles. “I’ll see ya in the morning.” She claimed taking a few steps backwards before turning to head towards her cell. “Night Daryl” There was a fondness, relief, and a hint of joy in her voice. It was a sound Daryl had not realized how much he had missed until he heard it again. “Night.” He muttered in return, watching her for a long moment before heading off to get some sleep himself. 

Ya, the prison was defiantly changing for him. He felt life here. They were no longer just surviving. This was life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter turned out to be more fluff than anything, but I feel like it fits good here. Hopefully everyone liked it and thanks again for reading. 
> 
> This chapter also took me a while to get out because of work so sorry for anyone who was waiting. I'll try to keep a better time frame. 
> 
> I want to reach out for the next chapter though. I've seen other writers do this and I like the idea and want to give it a try. 
> 
> Let me know what you think should happen in the next chapter. I'm curious to see what people think and I'd love to get some fresh ideas. 
> 
> Lastly, please keep your eye out for my second ever fanfiction that I'm planning on posting soon called Genesis.


	8. Approaching Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \----------------  
> Dream/Memory  
> \----------------

\--------------------------  
There was a bone deep chill in the air that ripped the breath from her lungs and shook her whole form in tremors and spasms. The world was black, sinking farther into an every darkening blackness that threatened to swallow her very soul. Bare feet dragged across mud, stumbling on roots, her body smacking against branches in territory she should know so well. Yet, her mind was blank with all thoughts cast aside in favor of a single goal. There was a single thought, a single image in the back   
of her head that drove her through the forest in the relentless cold and rain. 

It took her a long time, time she did not bother to keep track of as she stumbled upon a rundown home in the middle of the woods. Thin hands sprawled out on the dying wood, tracing the outside wall to the back of the house as always. The scent of whiskey, smokes, and drugs seemed to taint the cleanness of the air and she was not sure what of it stuck to her or to the house itself. Everything felt numb, cold, and damp as she reached the back of the house. Fingers found their way over glass before curling into a small fist. She knocked on the glass with gently rasps, knowing the person within had very good hearing. She waited listening to the sounds of a creaking old bed, the flutter of footfalls on wood, then the gentle screaming of the window being opened.

“Ivy?” Daryl’s sleep ridden voice echoes slightly above her as her blind eyes flicker towards the sound of his voice. “Fuck….what the fuck?” The sleep was almost too quickly replaced by concern, fear, and tinted anger. “The fuck she does to you? Stay there.” He growls and then he is gone, the sounds of fabric rustling, fading footfalls, and then the crack of a door somewhere to her left. Turning her blind eyes in that direction, she suddenly feels the warmth around her from the blanket and then Daryl’s arms huddling her inside the run down house. She had forgotten how little she was wearing, running around the forest in nothing but a tank top and panties. The warmth against her makes her skin burn and she trembled harder in Daryl’s hold. 

Daryl rushed her into his room and closed the door as softly as possible attempting not to disturb the rest of the house. “Merle’s sleeping in the livin room.” He explains. “Old man’s out of town so..” It was the usual, the usual conversation, a sense of understanding and safety. They needed to know what the situation was, whether it was her coming over or him coming over. It was a system they had gotten into years ago and it worked for them. Nodding, another shiver raced through her form as she was finally pushed to sit on the old bed. It creaked under her weight and suddenly Daryl was pulling off the blanket, pulling off her soaked tank top, before pulling one of his old tee shirts over her head. His hands are warm against her skin, his scent hangs around her like a security blanket, and his voice is soft against her pounding skull. 

“What’d she do ta ya?” He’s questioning again, wrapping her in the blanket before moving away. There is the sound of movement, the opening of a box, and Ivy knows from experience it’s a little first aid kit. Pulling the thick blanket around her form, her body shifted on its own, settling on her side upon the old bed. She was tired, cold, and in pain. Every part of her body ached and throbbed, burned and sickly. It was not just flesh wounds, the craving of the flesh, but deep inside of her burying into her very soul at this point. There was the shifting of movement, a gentle hand upon her forehead, before the bed creaked with Daryl’s weight. “Ivy?” He questioned softly, but she was so far away from him now. Her mind lost deeper in memories then she’d care to admit and he seemed to understand as he shifted to clean her form. Faintly, she could feel his hands upon her body cleaning the long and complex patterns of slit flesh. Daryl’s touch seemed to soften, become hesitant as he cleaned a particular spot upon her left hip bone. 

“She….wouldn’t stop…” Her own voice echoed in her ears, catching Daryl’s attention.

“They…wouldn’t stop…”   
\--------------------------------------------------

Maybe, maybe Daryl had been right to tell her the things he did about not being useless and stuff. It sounded stupid in her head, knowing he had such confidence in his words, but maybe it was best to believe in it for now. The prison had started out as well… what it was made for. It had felt like a prison, a cage, with a lock and key, and no escape. Ivy had felt like a caged animal, held tight by a lease without the chance to run on her own again. However, Ivy was slowly beginning to see it the way Daryl did, the way May did, and the way Josh did, the way this whole group did. 

While it had been completely unnerving to drop her guard, expect them all to be safe behind these walls, she was beginning to learn that it was not so bad. It was actually…nice…being able to sleep throughout the night without waking every few hours to take in your surroundings. It was nice to take a break from hunting, scouting, running, surviving, getting the chance to actually live a little. However, while she still felt useless at times, it seemed the more she healed the more she could do. Within another week or so, she was back to teaching May about different weapons, began to go out with Daryl and Merle for short trips to check traps, and had even scouted the prison library for books on plants. She could remember some of the lessons her Nana had taught her about how useful plants could be from cooking to healing. Maybe she could be of some help if they began to run low on medicine, maybe they could save the medicine for real emergencies. 

She still was not very good with the people of this place, but she liked to think she was getting better. Carol and Maggie were actually kind of fun to talk to, in small bursts. Carol was very sweet, wise, and very mother like. Maggie was feisty, strong headed, determined yet kind. Both women were strong and solid. Sasha and Tyresse were like two peas in a pot, you could always find one with the other. Tyresse reminded Ivy of Josh, a big teddy bear kind of person that could turn grizzly on you in a second. Sasha was a bit more wound then her brother, more serious, a little stronger in the heart and emotion. Yet, she was sound in the advice she gave and calm as a lake’s surface in summer. Tyreese was getting along well with Josh and Sasha was easy enough to talk too. 

The kids were probably the easiest for Ivy to get use to here. They were a silly bunch, but they welcomed May with open arms and it was getting to the point where if May was not by her side she was hanging around Beth, Carl, or Sophia. Somehow those four had the ability to keep themselves entertained like there was no tomorrow and even managed to squeeze Judith into their games when Beth had to watch the baby. Rick was someone Ivy was still on the fence about, only because she had not had much time to speak with the man. Even though there was a council, Ivy was not stupid, she could tell Rick was still very much in charge and with that came responsibilities. Rick seemed like a kind, dependable man, checking in on her and hers from time to time. Daryl seemed close to Rick. He trusted Rick and that was all she needed for the time being. Nothing about Rick came across as dangerous, well worrisome dangerous would be better. Rick was dangerous, Ivy got that sense easily enough, but it was like a protective dangerous. Rick was a man that if pushed would snap and lash out to protect his own, he was not a violent man unless provoked. 

Glenn was a screwball if Ivy had ever seen, well heard, one. He always seemed to have something to say, some sort of joke to crack, and while most of them fell rather short in her sense of humor, his optimism could be downright contagious. While hiding behind his jokes, Ivy sensed that Glen was rather strong willed and strong minded. He had this rather detailed sense of scouting and hunting when it came to runs. Thinking quick on his feet, moving just as quickly, and somehow knowing just what supplies they needed and what luxuries people would desire. He had already surprised Ivy greatly during her short time in the prison. There had been a run he had gone on with Maggie, coming back with a good haul of food and tools for the small garden Rick was working on. 

They had hit up some big chain store or something, bringing back what was needed and then had room for what people would desire. Nearly stale candy bars and board games for the kids, some wine and beer for the adults, books for Carol to teach the kids, fishing rods and hunting gear and smokes for Merle and Daryl, paints for Maggie, some handheld game for himself, a new Bible for Hershel, some baby toys for Judith, and the likes. Glen had even found Josh material for working on the generators along with a box of cigars he remembered Josh going on about once. He found May a rather impressively clean stuffed animal having remembered a conversation between May and Josh over how the girl missed this stuffed rabbit she had growing up. What had surprised Ivy the most was the small stack of CDs he had given her, claiming she could use the old disc player they had found in the Warden’s Office. Of course it ran on batteries, but the small disc player with its little speaks seemed hell bent on survive in this new world just like them. Why the hell he got her those? Well, she could not be sure, but she was grateful. She just couldn’t remember ever telling anyone much about herself. 

If there was one thing she missed most in this new world was music. She wasn’t much of a singer, but God did she miss dancing. There were memories from her childhood, of her Nana teaching her how to waltz with Daryl or taking her to a ballet class. Sadly, those memories were short and they did not last long, like those classes, but it had been enough to give her a love for the simple art of dancing. Not that she figured she was any good at it and it seemed all the CDs Glenn had found for her were more classical in taste. Painfully perfect for dancing if she was being honest.

That was how she ended up where she was, in the Warden’s office, sitting upon the desk as twilight painted the room from a set of high windows. The door was closed, sadly, the lock was broken, but having it closed was enough. A melody was floating on the air from the small disc player and it was as if she could breathe again. The familiarity of the tune brought memories to the forefront of her mind and well they were not pleasant in the least, it was somehow an anchor for her in this world. It was not long before she found herself humming gently with the melody, fingers tapping against the wood of the desk in time with the beat. Somehow, the melody relaxed her and gave her space from all the others in the prison. She was still getting use to all these people and so far she was tolerating everything but their touch, expect for Merle, Daryl, May, or Josh of course with varying degree. She nearly itched to get up from the desk, attempt those old ballet movies from her childhood. However, the office was small and for now, enjoying the melody was more satisfying. 

A gentle creak broke the tranquility of the room, blind eyes flickering to the door as the soft sound of a violin echoed behind her from the small disc player. “There ya are.” A familiar voice echoed causing her lips to curl in a soft smile. “Here I am.” She commented with a shrug of her shoulders as the door was closed once more. “Glad you sucked so much at hide and seek growing up.” Daryl spoke with a gentle chuckle in his voice. “You’re too easy to find when you want to hide.”   
“Who said I was hiding?” Ivy questioned, tilting her head to the side as Daryl stepped closer to the desk. She could feel his presence and then his weight against the wood of the desk as he leaned back against it. There was a brush of his arm against her knee. Silence seemed to take hold of their tongues as the melody from the disc player continued to encase the room. Daryl’s brows seemed to knit together at the song that played, a soft hum escaping his lips expressing the turning knobs in his brain. “Familiar?” Ivy questioned, hearing Daryl grunt a soft reply of agreement. “Don’t know what it’s called, but it sounds familiar.” Ivy continued. “Sounds like that stuff your Nana made us dance to.” Daryl grumbled and Ivy could not suppress the bark of laughter. “Made us? Made you more like it.” Ivy spoke poking at Daryl’s hip with her bare foot. “It ain’t no ACDC, that’s for sure.” He complained. “Damn woman, can’t ya wear yer shoes for once? Socks at least?” He hissed when her cold flesh brushed against his arm. 

“Can’t ya dress properly either?” Daryl scolded, his slanted blue eyes narrowing on the thin cotton sleeping pants and turtleneck Ivy wore. “It’s getting colder you know.” He continued to which Ivy sighed softly, though a smile was touching her lips. “I know, but I like the cold.” Ivy countered causing Daryl to huff at her side. There was a reason why Ivy liked the cold, not a very good reason by Daryl’s book, but a reason. It was numbing, a defense, it was a way that kept the woman from feeling too many things both in her mind and in reality. Somehow, to Ivy it was as if the cold numbed her to deeper things, keeping things light, keeping things from escaping too far into her mind. “Yer gonna get sick.” Daryl scolded, knowing it would not be the first time if he ignored this. 

“I’m fine…” Ivy countered listening to Daryl grumble softly again. “Ya weren’t when ya were seventeen.” He countered and Ivy shivered suddenly at his words. “Don’t.” She instantly hissed, shifting to cross her arms around her stomach. “You were sick for five days. Got sick wandering the woods barely dressed because ya wanted to be numb. Still can’t figure out how ya snuck out of my bed that day…” There was a mixture of anger, concern, and sadness in his voice as if the memories themselves bothered him as much as they did her. Sighing heavily, Ivy shook her head softly. “Well, you’re here….just make sure I don’t get too cold.” She half-heartedly teased the man, a small smile forming upon her lips. “I’ll duck tape socks on ya if I have to.” Daryl commented, the pressure from the memories his words had sparked fading. “Really? Duck tape?” Ivy questioned, her arms loosening around her waist. “It’s a fix all, ain’t it?” Daryl spoke, his voice light again. 

Ivy could not help the laughter that escaped her lips as she slipped off the desk. “Sure it is….sure.” She commented patting his arm gently before moving past him in an attempt to turn off the disc player. However, a warm hand reached out, grasping her opposite arm. Suddenly, that warmth encased her form in a fashion so familiar she was unable to think about flinching at the contact. Daryl’s arms tightened around her, his hands rubbing over her back and arms, and his chin rested gently on the top of her head. “Damn you’re cold.” He muttered softly, causing Ivy to shutter. Daryl had always been remarkably warm, his touch was always hot like iron, heating her to her core, and driving out the numbness and the cold. It always had an unmistakable side effect that caused Ivy to melt against Daryl, her form easily pressing into Daryl’s broad chest and muscular arms. The pounding of his heart was strong in her ear like an old lullaby and she relaxed easily enough into his embrace. 

“Don’t get sick on me…” Daryl muttered softly, his lips pressed to the top of her head gently. There was a flicker of pain in her chest at his soft voice, knowing the man truly did worry for her. It had been something she struggled to accept since they were small. Having someone to worry about, that was easy, but accepting someone else’s worry…that was hard. “I won’t.” Ivy replied gently as her arms wrapped about the taller man’s waist, returning the embrace. The silence carried on for a few more moments and it was not long before Ivy found her body swaying gently in Daryl’s embrace. It was a gentle rocking, back and forth, but it seemed to float easily with the melody from the disc player. Daryl’s attempt at the half-assed sway caused a smile to form upon her lips. Blind eyes closed to the world, merely taking in the warm, the swaying, and the presence of someone that actually cared for her. Someone who had cared for her for as long as she could remember who cared about her as much as she did about him. 

They stayed like that for what seemed like forever and Ivy honestly could not remember the last time she had felt such comfort. The feeling of a gentle kiss to her head caught her attention as Daryl’s form shifted. “Um…as much as I’d like ta keep standing here…Carol sent me ta fetch ya for supper.” The man spoke, his skin feeling somehow impossible more warm then it already felt. Unknown to her was the slight flush of color that was coming to Daryl’s cheeks at the prolonged embrace. It was not exactly the first time she had felt his skin warm up more, but she did not think much upon it as she nodded her head. “Alright, food sounds good.” She spoke with another smile tugging at her lips. 

Pulling herself from Daryl’s warmth, she wandered to the small disc player. Turning it off, she carefully placed the CD back into its proper case, leaving it all there for the next time she decided to come. “It’s nice…” She spoke, catching Daryl’s attention. “To have this office to come to…the quiet…” 

“You’re trying…” Daryl seemed to finish her train of thought for her and she could not help but smile as she turned to face him once more. “Trying as hard as I can…like you.” Ivy spoke up, knowing that Daryl would be the only person to understand the feeling of being caged, the feeling of suppression, and the desire to escape. There was a huff as Daryl shook his head, but his footfalls echoed on the concrete as he approached her. Reaching out, Daryl could not help the smirk that formed at Ivy’s small flinch of eyes closing and nose scrunching. Pressing his hand to her cheek, Ivy sighed at the contact. “It’s hard. I know…” He muttered gently before leaning forward. The press of warm lips against her forehead caused heat to come to Ivy’s cheeks as a smile tugged at her expression. Blind eyes stared blankly at the space before her, taking in what Daryl was conveying to her. 

“Think we…should get to dinner, before Carol comes hollering at us?” Ivy questioned with a small giggle as she felt Daryl’s forehead against her own as he leaned in.   
“Suppose.” He muttered slowly, but seemed unwilling to separate that very moment. “Gonna find ya some more warm clothes on the next run.” At his words, Ivy couldn’t help the laughter that escaped her lips. “Ya still on about that?” Shoving the man back playfully, Ivy shook her head as she moved around him to head towards the door. “Come on, can’t keep Carol”

“Yo, baby brother! Cherry! Where you two idiots disappear off to?” Merle’s loud voice echoed down the hallway as Daryl and Ivy shared a blind exchange of glances. Without warning, they both broke into a fit of laughter that easily drew the older Dixon to them. “The fuck you two doing up here?” Merle questioned as he pushed open the wooden door rather harshly, allowing it to bat against the concrete wall. “Ya too finally hit it off or some shit.” His husky voice growled out a pitch louder, playful sounding, but deeply embedded with meaning. 

The laughter seemed to stop near instantly, Ivy felt her cheeks heat up once more before she huffed. “Oh, shut up Merle.” She grumbled as she moved to push past the older Dixon in the doorway. It was an idea she did not want to entertain because she knew it was nothing more than an idea. Sure, they had grown up together. Sure, they were closer to each other compared to anyone else. Yet, they were friends and only friends. There had never been any indication of anything more, of any desire for more than just friendship. Ivy needed Daryl, needed the man in the same way she needed air to breath. There was no way she would ever throw what she had with Daryl away by trying to track onto territory like that. 

She could hear the rumbled of some kind of argument behind her, clearly the two Dixons getting into something. However, her mind was preoccupied and it was not long before she felt the soft vibrations through the ground signaling that the brothers were following her. The walk back to the cafeteria was oddly quiet, sprinkled with random chuckles from Merle that Ivy could not exactly understand.

Entering the cafeteria, Ivy hummed softly at the sounds that completely enveloped her. It seemed everyone had already come down to eat and the food was already dished out enough for this much conversation. The scent of booze lingered in the air and Ivy had to wonder if the adults decided to break open that bottle or two of wine. “There you three are.” Carol’s voice boomed over the background noise, catching Ivy’s focus and attention. The slightly taller woman came closer, but seemed to keep a certain distance like usual. “I set a place for you all. Wasn’t sure you’d make it for food…Pookie, you’re face is all red. Are you feeling alright?” Carol questioned as she moved past Ivy to check on the hunter. Brows knitting in confusion and concern, Ivy turned her blind eyes back towards the two Dixon brothers.

Pookie? That was a weird nickname and Daryl had never really been one for nicknames. Had he? She didn’t have any memories of something like that. A strangely thick, sickly feeling bubbled in her gut as she listened to Carol fuss over the man. It was a strange feeling, creeping through her veins, twisting her stomach in knots, and somehow made her a bit irritated. But why? Ivy knew Daryl was on good terms with these people. These people were his family, had been for some time now, but this was the first time she had ever felt like this. 

However, before she could inquire about Daryl’s health or think of the strange feeling more, a large hand clasped her elbow. It moved to take her hand, placing it on a muscular arm just below the elbow. “Let’s get some grub.” Merle’s voice boomed in her ear as he placed his hand over hers and moved her away from Carol and Daryl. The move of holding onto Merle’s elbow was something the older man had picked up years ago, having learned it…somewhere. Ivy was not sure where, but she remembered Merle coming back from prison the second year of knowing the Dixon brothers. He had scolded Daryl who always led her around by the hand, saying it was dangerous or something. Showed off how to ‘properly’ led her around or something like that. It had been silly and Daryl had listened for no longer than an hour before taking her hand again. 

Merle led her to a table and got her seated. She could hear the shift of chairs, got a few greetings before returning them in kind. It sounded like May, Josh, and Rick were at the table with her, which was a bit of a surprise. She was use to sitting with May and Josh, even the Dixons, but not Rick. “Evening.” He greeted softly and she could feel his gaze upon her. “Evenin’…” She muttered in return as Merle sat down next to her. There was an empty seat to her left, which caused her brow to rise in confusion for a moment before her attention settled back onto Rick. Her hands shifted slightly on the table, moving to feel were the various mealtime items where before actually attempting to eat anything. The table was oddly quiet and she could feel Rick’s gaze still trained upon her. The sound of moving utensils was close while the rest of the world drummed on in the background. “How are you adjusting here?” Rick spoke after several long moments of silences. “Fine…” Ivy muttered   
softly, her white eyes focused in Rick’s direction. “If there…is anything you need…let me know alright?” 

That was what it was, Ivy could tell now as she listened to Rick’s last words. The man was concerned, hesitant, and it caused Ivy to frown softly. His tone was that of many others, concern and uncertainty. Rick was a capable man, but did not know how to handle her, how to handle her handicap. It was probably why he had been walking on eggshells around her, why he seemed distant, why he seemed to choose his words so carefully. It seemed like he had put a lot of thought into her presences here, maybe worried for his group, hell maybe worried about her. Not that he needed to worry about her. It made her lips curl farther as her hand stopped moving, the idea of food no longer appealing. Somehow, she felt like she was being a burden here, on Rick, and on his people. Wouldn’t be the first nor the last time she felt like this though. 

“Ah leave Cherry lone. Hell, you’d be best going to this girl if ya got something ya need instead.” Merle drawled next to her with a chuckle. “Might be blind as a bat, but girlie knows a thing or two bout surviving and taking care of herself.” 

“Thanks…Merle.” Ivy muttered before she shifted to stand up. “Where ya going?” He questioned quickly. She didn’t have an appetite anymore and suddenly had the overwhelming need to disappear again. Between the strange twisting of Carol’s words to Daryl, the burdening feeling she got from speaking with Rick, and the uncomfortable feeling of Merle bragging about her worth it felt like she would just throw up her food. “Bed.” Was all she muttered, shifting to leave the table and the cafeteria. When she pushed herself away from the table, she had felt another presence close by but ignored it in favor of actually going to bed. There were too many strange feelings in her body now for her to deal with. 

It was probably sometime after midnight when Ivy left her cell. Dressed in the same cotton pants and turtleneck as earlier, the redhead wandered towards the prison doors barefooted. Pausing just before the door, she waited. Her head titled to the side as she listened closely to the surrounding noises. The movement of blankets, tossing and turning, coughing, snoring, and creaking beds revealed the fact that the prison was in deep sleep. With that in mind, Ivy quickly slipped out of the prison and into the interior courtyard. The instant chill had her gasping sharply for breath as her arms wrapped about her chest. There was a chill in the air; the grass was icy and wet beneath her feet. There was frost in the air, cold that settled into her bones. Was it really this late in the season already? Had she been healing for this long to where she had not realized the changing season? Sure, they were in the south, but even the south could get some harsh winters from time to time. If the aches in her joints warned her of anything, it was the possibility of a rather strong winter storm. 

The chill was numbing though and for that Ivy was grateful as she took a deep enough breathe that the cold tickled a cough from her throat. In reality, it was not as cold as it could be or what it might get. Shifting her weight Ivy moved away from the prison doors and deeper into the grassy fields of the interior yard. There was someone in the guard tower, she was sure of it. After all, there was always someone in the guard tower. Yet, she didn’t care and found a spot in the grass to sit down. Pulling her knees to her chest, she rested her chin as she wrapped her arms about her for some warmth. She wanted to be numb, didn’t mean she wanted to be cold.   
For twenty minutes, Ivy sat there lost deep in thought and failing to notice how much her body was beginning to tremble from the cold. She thought of how she was clearly a burden on Rick and his group. He must think she is useless, worried about what kind of liability she could be. Maybe it would be better if she left, but May and Josh would want to stay. Could she go alone? Did she want to go alone? That would mean leaving Daryl and Merle behind too. Could she do that after just finding them? There was no way she would ask them to leave with her, that would be cruel and selfish. Nevertheless, could she leave them? No, she didn’t think she could. How could she deal with Rick thinking about her as a liability? Why did she care so much? Why was it always weird when Merle said something good about her? It never bothered her when Daryl did it, but when others did it bothered her. Speaking of Daryl, what was that whole thing with Carol? Why would she call him Pookie? Why did her stomach knot at the thought of how close those too might be? Her mind was a train wreck of thoughts and ideas and old memories. 

The longer she sat there the more of a headache began to bubble behind her eyes. Rubbing her eyes with her thumb and forefinger, Ivy sighed heavily. Without warning, something thick and warm was draped over her form causing her to jump damn near ten feet in the air. Gasping for air, Ivy attempted to settle her racing heart as that warmth encased her with the aid of strong arms. “Fuckin idiot.” A gravelly voice echoed from behind as she was forcibly pulled backwards into a broad chest.

“Daryl?” Ivy whispered in confusion as the man practically picked her up off the ground and settled her on her feet. “You promised me you wouldn’t get sick and now yer sittin out here in the cold.” He grumbled as he pulled her harshly towards the prison doors. “I just came out ta think.” She protested weakly, but Daryl either did not care or did not wish to hear it. Ivy sighed as she was practically herded back into the prison, but instead of being ushered back to her own cell she found Daryl leading her up the stairs to the second floor of cells. He led her down to what must have been one of the last cells on the block before leading her into one of the cells. The place smelt like Daryl and she instantly knew where she was. “Daryl?” She questioned again as another blanket was wrapped around her thin body.   
“Yer lips are tinting blue.” He muttered softly, pressing the pad of his thumb against her bottom lip. “Out there too long, idiot.” He muttered to himself, completely ignoring anything Ivy expressed now. “I told you…I was just thinking. Was goin come in soon…” Came another of her weak protests. “Should have come out sooner.” Daryl muttered at her as he took her hand. “You were acting weird, didn’t eat dinner, disappeared to bed. Got up in the middle of the night without me to go sit outside in the cold.” Pulling harshly on her hand, Ivy found herself being crowded onto the small double mattress of the prison bed. 

She was forced to lie on her side, wrapped in two blankets as Daryl lay down next to her. Instantly, he wrapped another blanket around them both before he pulled her as close as he could. The warmth was starting to pool in her cheeks again as her heart hammered away. Why was she feeling like this? This was nothing new. “Just thinking…” She muttered again, to which Daryl replied with a huff. “It’s dangerous when yer thinking.” He muttered. “Don’t ever think of nothing good when yer actin weird.” He continued. 

Silence encased them for the longest time, the noises of the prison taking over. In the quiet, Ivy sighed softly before snuggling closer to the hunter in an attempt to relax. “Wanna talk about it?” Daryl whispered softly, seeming fearful of talking any louder. Sighing again, Ivy tucked her head beneath Daryl’s chin before shaking her head. 

“Think there’s a storm coming…” She whispered before allowing silence and then sleep to embrace them both.


	9. Storm Front

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Everyone!
> 
> Sorry for taking so long to get a new chapter up for this story. Life has been crazy and I have been suffering from some sever writer's block. I've managed to get out a decent sized chapter and I think I finally know where I am going with all of this.
> 
> As always comments are welcome.
> 
> So, if you still like this story and are still reading be prepared as the upcoming chapters will start to introduce the place everyone knows so well....
> 
> Woodbury

A storm was coming, it was coming and it was hitting harder than Ivy would have imagined it to. While her mind had originally supplied the idea in a methaphoric sense, it seemed mother nature had other plans. Three days after sharing Daryl’s cell, the temperature around the prison had plumitted and the dark skies had only grown darker. Now, now there was heavy snow falling, coating the Earth, the living and the non, in a blanket of crisp white. The winds were strong, howling, echoing, bouncing off the cement with a force that left Ivy’s ears ringing. 

The storm had caught everyone off guard, having not expected such a winter to come upon them and come upon them so quickly. It was only by some luck that Rick had decided to up the number of runs, hunts, and such over the last week to the point where even Ivy had gone out a time or two with Daryl or Merle to check traps. There was a decent pile of clothes in storage along with blankets and towels. The closet they kept the food it was as stuffed as they could make it with canned items and such. Any meat that had been hunted or found in traps, well that had been cooked into some form of jerk to keep it preserved for as long as possible. 

There were enough supplies to last them a while, hopefully through this storm at least. It would be a hard winter this year. There was no doubt about that considering the end of the world and all. Yet, somehow Ivy could not help but think it was possible to survive it all. It would take a lot of strength, hardship, and all but they could   
make it. All she had left was hope and being hopeful seemed to be all she could do anyways.

The red head was sitting quietly at one of the tables in the main section of the prison. Her blind, milk white eyes were focused on the set of metal doors that led out to the yard. Her knee jerked with nervous tension as she tightened her hold on a black shawl Maggie had found for her earlier in the day. For once, Ivy was… as Daryl would put it fully dressed. Socks, boots, thick sweats with a matching sweatshirt, and the simple shawl covered her pale form. Even her long bangs were pushed to the side, clipped with a barrette May had found. She was still cold, could feel it deep within her bones as small tremors escaped her form every now and again. The prison was cold, the cement and concrete doing nothing to help keep the chill at bay.

Behind her sat a fire pit, one of those portable camping ones. Glenn had found it on his last run out and it was proving to be very useful as the heat from the fire aided in battling off some of the cold. Beside her, May huddled close tightly wrapped up in a few blankets from her cell and one from Ivy’s. The dark haired girl sat with her legs crossed on the wide metal seat, her green eyes flickering back and forth between the door to the prison and Ivy. She could see the stress in the older woman’s eyes, the tension in her features, and the worry in the way she gnawed on her lip. “They’ll be back soon.” May tried to reassure her, but Ivy didn’t say anything and merely continued to stare at the door. 

There was nothing to do now. When the snow had first showed early that morning, a light dusting, no more, no less, everyone had been in a hurry. Rick and Carl hurried to clear what was left growing in the garden, while Maggie and Ivy made sure everyone had warm clothing. Carol and Sasha had gone over food and water supplies. Glenn and Tyresse focused on the fence and guard tower, while Hershel checked over medical supplies. Beth watched Judith and May and Sophia collected fire starter material. Lastly, Daryl, Merle, and Josh…well they had gone out once more to check the traps. 

And that had been early that morning and now the storm was in full swing and night had surely fallen. The chores had been done and were out of the way, they had enough to survive for a while, but those three were not back yet. It would be quick, it would be simply was what Daryl had told her. She had wanted to go, insisted on going since she had the last time. However, Daryl had told her no…that it would not take that long…that they would be back by noon. Well, it was well past noon according to Glenn’s pocket watch. It was well into early nightfall and they were not back yet. Ivy was itching in her seat, could not stand the thought of merely sitting here. At first, she had paced, then she had sat, then she paced again, before May had pulled her away. May distracted her by clipping back her hair, messing with the soft ruby red strands, but that was an hour ago and now she was no longer distracted.

She wanted to go out there, looking for them, track them down, but…God she hated her eyes sometimes knowing full well that going out there would be a death sentence. That wind was much too loud to hear anything well enough, snow would blind her senses, and the cold alone would get to her. She’d end up lost long before she even got close to finding them. This left her to sit and wait and Ivy was not always a patient woman. She worried about Josh, the man who had taken her in and treated her more like a daughter than her own mother. She worried about Merle, who hell had always been like a brother to her. She of course worried about Daryl, the one person on this planet she had ever connected to, her best friend, her family, and her…Well her family. She did not want to think about what else Daryl was to her. It was hard to put into words the feelings that she had for him, why her heart pounded, her mind ached, and she physically urged to be near him. Those three men were family to her, a better one than what she grew up with. It killed her knowing there was nothing she could do but sit here and wait.

Speaking of family, Ivy’s could feel eyes on her and she could not help the smile quirk of her lip when she remembered who was sitting next to her. May, the little girl that had stalked herself into her life and had become something Ivy never thought she would have. A daughter, May was the daughter Ivy thought she would never have, could never have. She had taken over as the girl’s caretaker, her guardian, and she liked to secretly think she’s taken a spot as a better mother than May’s original one had been. It was like she adopted May and May had adopted her. There was bond there that Ivy could feel. It was strong like her bond with Daryl, but different. She had to remind herself that May was still here, at least part of her family was still here. It was hard getting use to the idea of a good family.   
Then again, maybe what she was feeling was similar to Daryl’s feelings over the rest of his group. God only knew that the only person Ivy felt a connection to; the only person Ivy felt understood her pain fully was Daryl. She could also see why Daryl would come to think of these people as family. 

Reaching out, Ivy gently placed the palm of her hand on the back of May’s shoulder. With a gentle, but firm tug she brought the young teen closer. May eagerly scooted closer, nuzzling against Ivy’s side. However, she paused for a moment, shifted the number of blankets around her in order to include Ivy in her blanket mass. Feeling the warmth of the blankets over her shoulder, May nuzzled into her side, Ivy could not help the small smile that formed upon her lips. “Ya…they’ll be alright.” She finally agreed with May and even though she still sounded worried May knew she was trying to be hopeful. 

After all, May and the rest of the prison were also worried and on edge. It could be felt in the whole room, throughout every cell, and in every room. The tension was so thick it could easily be sliced open with a knife and carved. Everyone was waiting, waiting for a sign that the small group would be back. Ears were strained, conversations hush and low, and everyone was impossible still. It had been like this for hours and it seemed that it was unlikely to stop anytime soon.   
Early evening faded into dusk and dusk faded into nightfall. Still there were no signs, no word from the small group of three and it made Ivy physically ache. Rick had talked about heading out in the early hours of the morning, taking a small group with him in order to search for their missing group members. That had been hours ago and it had done little to ease the tension behind these concrete walls. However, it gave people something to do and many kept busy by gathering supplies for the trip. If the storm stopped by morning, Ivy was planning on going along whether Rick would let her or not. She was the only one left with any real tracking ability and without the haze of the storm to cloud her senses she knew she could be useful. 

May had wandered off after supper, most likely hidden away in her cell reading a book and keeping warm. Ivy had instructed the youth to take whatever blankets Ivy had left in her cell and anything else that would keep her warm. It wasn’t as if she was planning to sleep anytime soon. The rest of the prison had also settled down, settled in for the night though it was clear very little sleep would be had. The soft clip of footfalls behind her caught Ivy’s attention as milk white hues flickered to the source of the sound.

“How are you holding up?” Rick’s voice echoed softly, concern and care lacing his words like fine needlepoints. The soft gurgle of Judith’s baby talk flowed beneath   
Rick’s words like background noise and it made Ivy smile softly. “I’m fine…yourself?” She questioned listening to the man move and then feeling the shift in the bench, she sat upon, signaling Rick had joined her. “Worried, but…they’ll make it back here. Probably got distracted by something to hunt and are now holed up somewhere.” Rick commented off handedly.

Ivy hummed softly as she shifted her hand reaching out gently to brush a finger against Judith’s covered feet. That earned her a squirm and a gleeful sounding laughter from the infant that somehow made the tension in Ivy’s body lessen. “Yea….Daryl can be one stubborn bastard.” Ivy muttered as she continued to brush her finger along the length of Judith’s foot. The baby giggled brightly and even Rick found himself smiling at the infant’s joy. “She likes you….you’re very good with kids.” Rick commented off handedly, the words causing Ivy to pause and withdraw her hand. 

A small frown marred her features as she shrugged useless before leaning away. “I’m not very good with anyone.” She commented simply, her blind gaze traveling back to the area she knew held the prison doors. “I think you’re better than you think.” Rick muttered, letting Judith play with his finger, her little mouth attempting to devour his thumb. “Whatever you say…” Ivy muttered as she leaned back against the metallic surface of the table. “I’ve never been good at dealing with people… but…I guess there are some exceptions.” 

“Like May….Josh….Merle….Daryl?” 

“I’ve known Merle and Daryl all my life….kind hard not to be okay with them…don’t know how to deal with them half the time though.” Ivy giggled softly as she shook her head. 

“But you’re good with Josh and May.” 

“Josh….he’s taken care of me for some time now….and May…well…maybe I am good with kids.” Ivy commented to which Rick snorted a small laugh in reply. 

“Kids are good and they need good people in their lives….seems to me your doing a great job with May…have you ever considered having kids before all this?” Rick was attempting to get to know one of the quietest members of his extended family. The man felt as if Ivy was a mystery of a woman who only allowed you to look so deep. 

Ivy scoffed slightly, wrapping her arms about her waist in thought over the man’s words. “It’s….not like I haven’t considered it…” Ivy commented with a shrug. “But…  
it’s a dream I gave up on a long time ago. Guess I turned out like my Nana and just take in strays.” 

Her words were puzzling to Rick, making him uncertain as to where to go from here. He wanted to ask why the dream was no longer plausible, was curious as to the woman Ivy called Nana considering the amount of words the woman spent on her. However, he was unsure and didn’t wish to upset her. No, his plans were not to upset Ivy. He wanted to get to know her and distract her considering how little she had rested on her self proclaimed guarding of the prison’s door. Maybe he was going about this the wrong way.

“So, you’ve known Merle and Daryl a long time….how was it growing up around those two?”

A huff of a laugh escaped Ivy’s lips as she pulled her shawl closer to her body. “Was one hell of a time.”

“Yeah? Seems like they would have been trouble makers.”

“Oh…they were…still are…but worse back in the day. ‘Member this one time…Daryl decided to take Mer’s bike for a ride. Even ‘sides to pick me up with the damn thing. We went fishin’ that day…but of course, Merle found out about the missin’ bike and came hollerin’ for the entire world to hear. Rolled up in his beat up pick up, came out of nowhere….scared us half ta death. Daryl jumps up and tries to race outta there on that old bike…but…” Ivy pauses with a laugh in her throat. “Accidently, guns the damn thing right into the river…Mer was pissed.” 

It was a simple little story, a good memory spoken softly in the fading light of an old fire. She could remember that summer, hear the sounds of the engines, feeling the vibrations of that old bike, and Merle’s yelling and cursing in the background with the babble of that lazy river. She listened to Rick’s huff of amusement and she found the little attempt at conversation to be nice. Rick wasn’t prying, just curious, and he kept a good distance from her. She could respect that and she could see how Daryl got along so well with this man. 

“Was Daryl always scared of Merle?” 

“Pfff…only when Merle was real pissed off…but he could always out run ‘im so…”

“They teach you everything?”

“Huh?”

“Well…like how to shoot a bow and track and stuff…” Rick elaborated causing Ivy to hum gently.

“Yeah…Daryl taught me mostly…since Mer was in and outta prison so damn much…but Nana’s the one that taught me bout stuff like identifying plants and animals and stuff.”

“I’ve heard you speak about your Nana before…sounds like you two were close…”

“Were…woman raised me seeing as how Mama didn’t care much for me.” Ivy commented without thinking, a frown suddenly marring her face as a sinking feeling flooded her gut. Why would she say something like that to Rick of all people? No one needed to know about her sorry ass excuse for a childhood. 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Rick muttered softly, curious but clearly unwilling to push the woman anymore than he already had. 

Ivy’s brows knitted, milky hues focused on the floor now as she waited for the endless bounds of questions that people tended to throw her way upon any hinting of her past. When Rick remained quiet and didn’t push, Ivy rose her eyes, head tilted towards the man in question. Humming, Ivy shifted to stand, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable and bothered. Suddenly, she wanted to hide away, get away from people, and be alone. Yet, she also didn’t wish to leave the common area for fear of missing Daryl and Merle when they returned. 

“I’m….gonna go lay down...” Ivy muttered, ignoring anything else Rick may or may not have wished to express. She could tell when someone was prying and she wasn’t in the mood to decipher the code of communication with someone who was still a stranger to her. Wandering to her cell, Ivy found her footfalls silent and the path familiar. Her nightly walks with Daryl had given her the knowledge of the prison that allowed for easier movement. It seemed that many of the residents within the concrete walls had taken to keeping certain items in place and out of the way, a trait she held much gratitude for. 

Upon entering her cell, Ivy paused just beyond the door and listened. The soft flutter of pages and the creak of bedsprings gave her enough knowledge to confirm May was indeed in her cell. Sounded like the young girl was reading and it caused the redhead to back up. Changing her direction of travel, she knocked gently on the bars of the neighboring cell. “May?” She called as she reached out to pull back the privacy sheet and enter the tiny room. The scent of wax lingered in the air as May sat up on the makeshift bed.

“Ivy?” She questioned in confusion over the blind woman’s presence. The dark haired youth had been keeping an eye on her for most of the day, knowing how the worry was straining her. Tilting her head to the side, May could do little but move back on the bed when Ivy approached, gesturing her to scoot over. Green eyes widened at the reality of Ivy climbing into bed next to her, wrapping her in thin arms. Ivy’s chin rested gently upon her head as a single hand reached down and her index finger tapped the page of the book in May’s hands.

“Whatcha readin’?” Ivy questioned, seemingly unaware and uncaring of her closeness to the youth. It wouldn’t be the first time since meeting Ivy that they would share in this sort of closeness. May got the feeling that for as much as Ivy wished to be isolated from the world around her; she craved human connection just as much as anyone else did. Maybe it was because May was quiet. Maybe it was because they had such a strong family like connection. Either way, the dark haired youth didn’t comment on the behavior, knowing it would only send the redhead away.

“Found it in the library…It’s called “The Adventures of Tom Sawyer”….Carol says it’s a classic.” 

Ivy’s lips twitched slightly as she tapped her finger gently upon the page once more. “Well…go on…keep reading…” 

A smile came to May’s lips at the prospects of reading to the older woman and was shuffling the pages about, returning to the beginning of the story. In a soft voice, barely above a whisper May began the tale that had kept her entertained for the last few hours. It didn’t matter much that she had read through most of the book already, she would readily do so knowing it would probably help keep Ivy’s mind occupied.

Since coming to the prison, May had realized the reality of Ivy’s connection with Merle and Daryl. May had never been a stupid child, always smart and observant. It hadn’t taken her long to realize that Merle and Daryl were the boys Ivy had spoken about. It also hadn’t taken much to realize how important the two of them were. At first, May would have to claim her dislike of the two. Merle was loud and obnoxious, cursing all the time, and sometimes just outright mean….or so it seemed. It had taken a lot of time for May to realize that it was all a game for the older man, a way to get a rise out of her. Once she realized the game, May had begun to give back as much as she got. Somehow, it had formed into a strange little bond…a form of familiarity and routine. 

Now, Daryl she was still iffy on if only for the fact he took up much of Ivy’s attention and time. Not that Ivy ever neglected her or ignored her. No, the older woman still taught her things…still made sure she was well…and took care of her. Protected her even, considering the few times May had witnessed Ivy lashing out at Merle for taking his teasing too far. She hadn’t spent much time with the quiet hunter, though she found his presence similar to Ivy. Both were quiet, only spoken in soft tones unless pushed, and they both took their time with the people around them. Daryl had been here longer, but even May could see that he still struggled to fit within the binds that held this group together. Everyone had a place and while they were still figuring out theirs, Daryl and Merle were just filling up their own spots. Spots, they carved for themselves and were determined to keep. 

May could only hope that they and Josh would return if only for the sake of fending off the tension within the prison.

A smile curled upon Ivy’s soft lips about an hour later, May’s voice was tiring out. It faded in and out with the lull of sleep, the girl barely fighting to keep her eyes open to finish the pages. A soft huff of a laugh escaped the older woman’s lips as she reached out gently to take the book from the teen’s hands. “Alright…bed..” She whispered gently moving her body away to give May room to sleep.

Folding the corner of the page, Ivy set the paperback upon the card table that was set up in the corner. “You shouldn’t do that…it’ll ruin the pages.” May complained tiredly, already snuggled into the three or four layers of blankets. Ivy had found what extra she could in hopes of keeping the teen warm during the night.

“Oh?” Ivy questioned, placing her hands gently upon her hips. “And who told you that?”

“Carol did.”

“Well, I don’t have a bookmark…I’m sure it will be alright for one night…we can find something to use tomorrow….okay?” 

“Okay…” 

“You get some sleep.” Ivy commented patting May’s shoulder gently before turning to leave.

“Ivy?”

“Yes?”

“Are you going to bed too?” Pausing, Ivy frowned at the teen’s words knowing that sleep would be elusive tonight. 

“I’m….going to try.” Ivy returned.

“Don’t stay up all night….Rick said we’re going out tomorrow to search for them…can’t be tired.”

“Not ‘we’ May…..Rick, Glenn, and Maggie are.”

“But I want to go to.”

“Oh no…I don’t think so.”

“Why?” May argued, her voice tinted in anger and frustration laced exhaustion. 

“It might be too dangerous…”

“I can protect myself.” Sighing heavily, Ivy shifted and moved back to the bed. Sitting down at the end, she reached out to gently pat May’s blanket covered calf.

“I know ya can….but I can’t.”

“Why?”

“May….” Sighing heavily once more, Ivy shook her head. “The snow makes it hard for me to see…once the storm dies down…it’ll be easier, but…everything will still be   
a bit difficult for me and I’m going to have to put all my focus into my surroundings to even attempt tracking. I…I can’t put you at risk…I can’t track and protect you at the same time.”

“But I can protect myself.” May practically growled.

“I know…would you let me worry about you just once? I think you’ll be more help here then out there.”

“But…” May began with a sullen expression.

“I’ll start taking ya huntin’ and stuff again, but this is a no go this time….”

“Fine….”

 

Reaching out, Ivy gently placed her hand on May’s head. Running her fingers over the short locks for but a moment before rising from the bed. “Good night.” She whispered softly as she moved to leave the cell.

“Good night, Ivy.” 

Leaving the teen’s cell, Ivy huffed another sigh before shaking her head. It was one thing to have no one care about you and run around the world as you saw fit, but   
it was another to have someone actually care. Ivy knew May would argue with her, knew that May would want to be there. The teen was just as worried about Josh as she was, but Ivy also knew the teen would want to be there for her. Ivy could tell in the way May was around her, the teen cared about her in the same way she did. May wanted to protect her, help her, care for her, and keep her happy and safe. Maybe this was a mother-daughter thing or something….it was nice, but really May needed to leave that sort of thing to Ivy if the redhead had anything to say about it. 

The prison was quiet for the most part, much more so than earlier. Seemed most people had wandered off to bed, if the sounds of squeaking springs and shifting fabric had anything to say. Wandering back towards the open area of the prison, Ivy wondered about the future. What would happen, out there in the world? Was Daryl, Merle, and Josh…were they safe? Her stomach turned, instincts crawling with unwanted nausea and unease. Her footfalls turned, heading towards the main door of the prison. 

The howls of the winds had lessened for the most part, though the door and air were still crisp and cold. 

“Storms died down.” A voice echoed to her left, catching her attention easily enough. “Thinking of heading out there?” 

“Would it hurt to have a listen, Rick?” Ivy questioned tilting her head to the side, her eyes locked on the door and not on the man that stood behind her. 

“No…it wouldn’t…I’ll go with you.” Sighing heavily, Ivy turned to face the man with a scrawl upon her features.

“You can stop now.”

“Stop?” Rick questioned, his voice laced in confusion.

“I get it…okay…so you can stop handling me with child gloves.”

“Ivy….what are you talking about?” 

“Come on now…you don’t think I haven’t noticed?” Ivy questioned as she leaned her back against the chilly metal door, arms crossing over her chest. “You’re too   
cautious around me…watch me constantly…treat me like I’s gonna break or something. I get that ya think I’m a burden, but I ain’t.”

“I don’t think that…” Rick muttered, his voice laced with an undertone of guilt. Something Ivy noticed quickly, scenting out a lie. The man may come to her for her opinions on simple matters, but maybe that really didn’t mean all that much. 

“Ya do Rick. I’ve been treated like that before…can recognize it. It’s why ya won’t take me out there with ya all tomorrow mornin’….think I’ll be a liability….slow ya all down. It’s why yer the only one here that won’t bother talkin’ much with me…much as I hate all the company…ya don’t know how ta handle me so ya treatin’ me like a child.”

The silence that followed penetrated the air thickly and was broken by the softest exhale of air Ivy had ever picked up.

“Yer right…” Rick admitted. “I don’t know how to handle you. It’s my job to protect this group and everyone in it. That includes you. I’ve heard May and Josh talk about you, but I still can’t figure out how you’ve survived all of this. Don’t think I could willingly let you put yourself…or anyone else at risk…if something went down. That’s why I can’t let you come tomorrow.”

“Stop…” Ivy nearly growled out in response. “I ain’t yer concern…I’ve lived through hell and high waters before…this ain’t much different. I can take care of myself…protect myself. No one will be put at risk…I won’t let someone take a risk for me. Much as ya might hate to hear it…yer gonna need me out there…only damn tracker ya got left in this place.”

“I can’t let you put yourself at risk like that. The snow has probably wiped everything clean as it is. Could be dangerous and we can’t afford mistakes out there.”

“Mistakes?”

“Yeah…I heard how the snow messes with you…not sure it’s a good idea to let you out there especially with a gun much less let you go out there where there are   
walkers.”

“You don’t trust me…that’s it.” 

“I didn’t –” 

“No…ya did…ya don’t trust me Rick…ever think that’s yer damn fault.”

“What?” Rick questioned, surprised by the harshness in the woman’s voice that bit like venom in his skin.

“Ya…you heard me…yer fault for not trustin’ me. Ain’t as if you ever worked with me…ain’t as if you interacted much with me. Today is the first day ya had an actual conversation with me that didn’t involve orders or greetin’ or simple pleasantries or two second opinions. Ya ain’t done much for me to even be able to prove my ability, my skill, my trust ta ya. So, fuck you for judging me…might not be the easiest person to get along with, but ain’t like ya tried. I’ve been trying for this group…”   
Silence followed those words, the heat coiling in Ivy’s belly like an angry snake ready to strike. How dare Rick judge her so easily? He knew nothing about her and was hardly close enough to learn anything about her. Sure, Ivy wasn’t sure what to think of him…hardly trusted him herself if she was being honest. However, Daryl trusted Rick and Ivy trusted Daryl. Clearly, the extension of trust didn’t work the same for Rick as it did for her. She couldn’t blame him, but she was no stranger here anymore. She had been trying, trying so hard to get use to the people here, trust the people here, and help in any way she could. Yet, she was still seen as a liability and a burden. Now…now was a time for her to really help and show were worth. Winter maybe the worse for her senses, but she had done it before and survived. She knew she could do it again.

Turning her back on the man, Ivy grasped the handle of the metal door and pulled. Ignoring the shiver that raced down her spine from outside due to her lack of a coat, Ivy moved to step outside into the dying winds. 

“Saints.” Rick spoke causing Ivy to pause, blind eyes turning in his direction.

“What?”

“Daryl said you were in Saints Institution….why?” Was this the reason? Was this the real reason he kept his distance from her? Was this the real reason he was   
constantly watching from afar? Why he really didn’t want to trust her? Fuck Daryl for spilling such information. 

“Yeah…I was…so what?”

“Why were you there?” Rick’s tone darkened, something threatening boiled beneath the surface. He was threatened, felt like his group was in danger because of her.   
Somehow, that stung worse than being mistrusted for being blind.

“You really wanna know?” Ivy questioned voice low and icy like the frost that nipped at her ankles. Leaving the door, open to the world, Ivy moved closer towards Rick.   
Without batting so much as a lash, she stood in his space, face to face. Lifting her left hand, she gently placed the tip of her nail against the jagged scar that raced across her face. She touched right below her eye. 

“Mama never wanted me…said she would have gutted me like a pig before I was even a month old if Nana hadn’t stopped her. Ignored me most my life…’cept…this scar?” She commented lowering her hand. “First time Mama ever cut me…did it behind Nana’s back…got some sick pleasure from it…said it made me ugly because I was too pretty…Nana got pissed something awful…Mama left…”

Why was she saying this? Why couldn’t she stop talking? The anger, disgust, and hatred at the world was bubbling at the surface. It was spilling over like a damn boiling pot. Part of her was satisfied to tell Rick, shove it in his face the reason for her place at the institution. Maybe it was some self-righteous act of superiority, knowing it would throw the man for a loop. Would mess him up and now Ivy could care less for the consequences. 

“Nana died when I was small…Mama came back….went back to ignoring me. Mama got a boyfriend...boyfriend became Mama’s husband….man started treating me bad…beat me silly…tired ta kill me once in a car wreck. Mama didn’t like the attention he gave me….started cutting me up again ta make me ugly…”  
The trembling had started somewhere in her shoulders, traveling the length of her back and spine. It grew in her legs and hands, her teeth gritting together as the story unraveled faster than a roll of wrapping paper.

“Thing was…Mama was getting sick…cancer…made things worse till finally...Mama snapped and lost it….she went after me. I ran…got away…got picked up by the cops sometime later. Mama signed the papers and everything…sent me to the mad house…claimed I was insane…and they believed her. That is till the docs figured it out…by that time…Mama was on her way to hell and her husband had drank himself into the grave. Being blind…couldn’t just walk out…had to stay there till someone could take care of me…fucking government hardly did a thing…..that’s why I was there…happy?”

Ivy growled before sharply turning on her heels, unable to stop the shaking as she practically marched out the door. Slamming the prison door shut behind her, she huffed into the cold air as something warm dripped down her cheek. It followed the contour of her face and down her neck, took her a moment to realize she was crying. Sniffling, Ivy quickly wiped at her face in an attempt to stop the tears. She could practically hear Merle calling her a crybaby, but she couldn’t stop, as she rubbed at her eyes harder. How could she have spilled all of that to a man she hardly knew like that! Maybe she was done? Maybe she had been so tired of being doubted and considered a burden…so tired of being judged without being considered. Now she could deal with pity and shame, disgust crawled under her skin at that thought. Maybe she should leave? 

“Hey, Cherry I asked ya what’s with the damn waterworks.” A crude voice called not far ahead of her, causing Ivy to freeze on the spot. Blinking, Ivy was hesitant to lower her hands from her face. 

“Merle?”

“Course, who the fuck else?” Came the hearty laugh of a reply. 

The soft sounds of shuffling snow and a creaking gate caught her attention, holding it. Damn her mind, thinking of the past and ignoring the signs that someone was coming. The movement in the snow quickened and suddenly a cold hand touched her left cheek. The feeling made her flinch and frown in confusion.

“The fuck you doing out here…done told ya yer gonna catch a cold.” Daryl’s gravel like voice reached her ears and before she could help herself, more tears traced her cheeks. A dry laugh escaped her lips as she gently shook her head.

“You ass…what took you guys so damn long.”


End file.
